


Waste It on Me

by eyessharpweaponshot



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Depression, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Mentions of Mental Illness, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Reincarnation, Slow Burn, Smut, Soulmates, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 21:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 86,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17874863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyessharpweaponshot/pseuds/eyessharpweaponshot
Summary: There's no such thing as love, according to Clarke Griffin. She's sworn off dating after it leaves a bad taste in her mouth and there's nothing that can sway her from that. What she doesn't expect is that fate has a different path laid out for her - one that leads to a curly haired barman who just happens to be her soulmate.Or the reincarnation/soulmate AU that I promised to post ages ago.This fic was nominated inBFWA After Dark 2019forBest Consensual Smut Work in Progress.Made it to Round 1 winners. Thank you all so much.





	1. I Am Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Low' by Greyson Chance.
> 
> Fic title is the song 'Waste It On Me' by Steve Aoki (feat. BTS) and this whole fic is heavily inspired by a Bellarke fan video made by the famous teamhodgins on Tumblr whose work I absolutely adore. I will link it below because I must have watched it a million times, especially when writing this fic.  
> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).

The dime between Clarke’s fingers is the only thing she’s letting herself focus on at the moment.

She’s chosen to ignore the smell of the bar she’s in, like the sweet scent of beer radiating from every nook and cranny in the place. She isn’t paying attention to the bartender at the opposite end, pouring a glass of Jack for some old man who seems like a regular if the barman’s conversation with him is anything to go by. She’s making herself oblivious to the chill that comes over her arms when the door opens, letting April’s evening air blow in momentarily with whoever is coming in before vanishing again with the shut of the door behind them. She’s not even drinking her vodka which is her fourth one in an hour.

And she is definitely, by all means, ignoring the buzz of her phone vibrating on the bar top - which on that count, is the seventh in an hour.

Clarke sighs, twirling the dime between her fingers and watching how the low lights of the bar reflect off of the silver. She keeps focusing on the coin until her phone falls silent once more and then she takes a drink. A fucking long one.

She’s never felt this kind of deep rooted hurt before and she isn’t sure how to deal with it. With Lexa, it had been hard but she was young and even though it felt like the worst thing in the world at the time, it didn’t feel like this. With her father dying, it was an excruciating grief that could only be dealt with by crying and locking herself in her room for weeks. She still feels it on her bad days because that kind of pain, it just never leaves. This though, this is feeling upset and broken twisted in with some epic hurricane of anger and betrayal.

She had put everything into him - left friends behind for him, killed her social life for him and to be honest, probably put up with way more than she should have just so she didn’t have to be without him.

‘Want another?’ The bartender grumbles, breaking her out of her stupor. Clarke didn’t even realise she had finished her drink but clearly he had been paying attention. She pockets the dime, looks up and nods in response.

She considers the man while he’s pouring her fifth one of the evening. His dark curls are long and messy over his eyes as he focuses on the task at hand and he has heavy stubble around his face, which is too short to even be considered a beard. He’s wearing a red plaid, cotton shirt - folded at the elbows. It’s paired with a dark pair of jeans and if Clarke was in any other mental headspace right now, she would think he’s hot.

Shame about his attitude.

‘Anything else, Princess?’ He says tiredly when he hands her the glass, as if he’s been running around after her all day waiting on her hand and foot. She’s only been here an hour, even if it is her third day this week to sit on this stool. It’s a quaint bar slapped inside the hustling city of Arkadia but it seems to hold its own. It has a large stage located near the back and the soft wood furnishings give the place this chill vibe that Clarke regrettably likes. The stage has been empty every evening she’s turned up here but like most places in Arkadia, the owner probably waits for the weekend to book any talent.

Fridays are a particularly long day for Clarke and she has had it with this whole fucking week, so again, like every day she has come to this stupid bar, she gets her back up with the bartender who insists on making her week that much worse.

‘Sorry if I’m taking up too much of your valuable time’ she snaps, gesturing to the bar who has about seven customers in it. It’s so quiet at this hour of the evening that apparently it only requires one worker behind the bar and really, she’s had enough of him. He’s been here every day she has, serving her drink along with his snotty comments. Does this bar have no other goddamn employees? ‘And stop calling me that.’

‘It’s comments like the one you just passed that earned you that title, Princess’ he says again, picking up a towel to wipe his hands as he looks at her. ‘I told you yesterday, I know your type. Coming in here from your fancy university, thinking you have problems because your lectures were a little too long today’ he scoffs, rolling his eyes with that stupid smirk on his face that she’s come to hate. ‘Judging me because I’m just here expected to serve you drink?’

‘You are here to serve me drink, you work here?’ Clarke pinches her face up because it’s not an insult or an expectation, it’s the truth. He works in a bar, it’s his basic job description. She’s not judging him for it but he is expected to do at least that. Otherwise, he should go work somewhere else.

‘You’re missing the point’ he says, shaking his head. No, he’s missing the point - he’s the one judging her. He doesn’t know a thing about her, no matter what he thinks. Instead of telling him this, Clarke just rolls her eyes because she doesn’t have it in her to defend herself tonight.

‘Guess I know why this place isn’t packed with students - your attitude must keep them out of here’ she mutters, referring to the obvious fact that Polis University is literally a stone’s throw away from here.

‘Doesn’t stop you coming back apparently’ he tells her over his shoulder as he walks away, serving another customer at the end of the bar.

Clarke grits her teeth in frustration. The only reason she keeps coming back is because it’s the one place Finn won’t think to look for her. She never had time for bars or this kind of socialising since she’s met him. So why would he look for her here?

And like the universe is playing some twisted joke on her, Clarke’s phone buzzes again. Finn’s name flashes on the screen and she outwardly groans.

Will he just fuck off?

She straightens herself and takes a breath to calm herself. Directly in her line of vision, mirrors lie behind the bar of drinks which gives her glimpses of herself through the bottles. _Man_ , she looks like shit.

Her blonde hair is falling in curls down her back but the pink at the ends add some edge to it. According to Cosmo, it’s what you do to get over a break-up. Clarke can definitely confirm that dyeing the tips of her hair did not cure her heartbreak.

Other than that, it’s about the only thing that looks okay about her appearance. She’s pretty sure she wore this grey t-shirt yesterday and she knows the dark jeans and black converse she’s wearing are days old. There’s bags forming under her eyes and she hasn’t worn a scrap of makeup since Monday.

Monday. The day her fucking life went to shit.

It’s one thing coming home earlier than expected from a long day of medical lectures, because lets face it, her choice of career isn’t easy or enjoyable for that matter. It’s another when you’re on the way home and you spot your boyfriend of two and a half years kissing some brunette on the corner of the street.

She remembers the moment so clearly, it’s almost like it’s happening to her again. Her mouth fell and her heart along with it, watching Finn’s stupid grin as he tipped the girl’s chin up and planted soft kisses against her lips. It’s like they did it all the time and quite frankly - Clarke didn’t want to know how long they were doing this.

Clarke had been blinded by the anger and betrayal but for some reason, when she thought she’d barge straight up to them and tear him a new one right in front of his side piece, she surprised herself and just walked back to her apartment in tears.

She called him when she had gotten herself somewhat together and told Finn Collins he could go fuck himself. He tried the denial tactic but that was a pointless endeavour - she had seen him with her own eyes. She hung up on him and so spent Monday night crying and watching shit soppy movies on Netflix.

Tuesday brought back the anger so Clarke skipped class, burned every single photo she could find of her and Finn, ate her weight in pizza and ignored her ex-boyfriend’s repetitive bangs on her door.

Wednesday morning, she felt better and like she could take on the world - she didn’t need a man and she definitely didn’t need one who cheats on her. So with her newfound attitude, Clarke proceeded to skip down to the local store, grabbed a box of pink hair dye and gave herself somewhat of a new look. She even managed to make it to her afternoon classes but by the time 5pm had rolled around, Clarke was sure she was going to be sick from the pain in her chest. She was back to feeling crap and like her whole world was crashing down around her, so she practically ran to the bar across the street and ordered a double vodka from the abrasive bartender who looked at her like she was about to break at any minute. Maybe she was.

So here she is, three consecutive days in the same bar - wallowing in self pity. If nothing else, it’s given her time to notice the cracks in her and Finn’s relationship. Clarke is beginning to think it wasn’t the healthiest to begin with. She started dating him during a bad time in her life - her father had only been dead a year and things between her and her mother were terrible, so really, Clarke had nobody else. She had just started her degree and moved into her own apartment, so in the middle of all the change and residual grief, what better than to throw yourself head first into a man who seemed so wonderful?

Finn was charming and charismatic, all of which screamed his job description as a realtor. He was older and had a good job which made him seem miles more mature than he actually is. At only 23, he bragged about how he was the best house salesman at the office and Clarke at only 21, ate it up. She thought he was so sophisticated but above all else, he was an escape.

It’s not until she looks back now that she sees a few issues that weren’t obvious looking from the inside out. Finn didn’t live with her but yet somehow, he took up all of her time. She stopped feeling the mad rush of excitement of being with him and instead, settled for a feeling of contentment and certainty.

He went out constantly and yet, she stayed at home. She never so much as set foot inside a bar or a nightclub during their entire relationship so sitting here is completely new territory for her. She also never found the desire to expand her social circle, just pouring every part of herself into Finn Collins.

High school friends lost contact and moved away to bigger cities for their own dreams while Clarke just moved to the far end of town with no-one to socialise with. She never found it odd to not see anyone but him, because well, he was all she needed. He helped her through her family problems and gave her something to focus on. But he made her split from who she used to be without her realising it. She was popular in high school with plenty of friends along with an array of hobbies. She used to cheerlead and was insanely talented at gymnastics. She was always the centre of a party, prom queen and voted ‘most social’ in her yearbook.

How did she lose herself so much in Finn?

She takes another large swig from her drink, almost downing the entire glass. She doesn’t know who she is anymore - who she even started out as. She thought she belonged with Finn, but now where does she fit in in this world?

There’s only one thing she does know. Love can go fuck itself - it doesn’t exist.

That crap that you see on television where a man looks at a woman and it’s obvious how much he loves her - its written all over his face. Where she’s like the sun and he’s drawn to her. Where they kick and frolic at the beach and the girl is beaming at him as he lifts her into the air. Where she catches him gazing at her with an intense look on his face. Where you trust somebody one hundred percent not to hurt you.

What a load of _bullshit_.

It doesn’t happen in reality. Not in anything Clarke has ever experienced anyway. Lexa had cheated on her in high-school so really, she should have learned her lesson after that. She doesn’t care if Lexa and Costia are engaged now and ‘meant’ for one another, she still hurt Clarke and now Lexa gets to be happy for it. If this is what love is, Clarke doesn’t want to be anywhere near it ever again.

It’s nothing like they say it is. It’s butterflies and fun for a while, but it fades. It dies. It doesn’t last. Why would she want something boring and comfortable again just for a bit of security and company? Why would she let herself back into that to end up this heartbroken again?

Fate, meant to be, soulmates - it’s laughable.

Clarke finishes her drink and even though she’s on her way to another drunken evening with the rudest bartender to ever exist, she’d take this every day over going back to that crap again.

So thus has been Clarke’s week. Lectures and then drinks at the Northern Lights bar across the road until the moody bartender decides she’s had enough and calls her a cab. It’s probably not the best way to handle her emotions, but hell, she hasn’t ever done this before - so fuck it.

‘Another one, Princess?’ The bartender is back, taking her glass as he asks the question. Before she even answers, he’s in the process of filling her the sixth one. He also made sure to put emphasis on her newfound nickname considering he knows how much it annoys her.

‘Yes, Jackass. Indulge me.’

‘Jackass?’ He chuckles and for some surprising reason, she’s is a little proud that she could make him genuinely smile and not just bring out the condescending smirk he normally gives her. He looks better with this expression, like the chip is gone from his shoulder and he’s at ease - not grumpy or irritated. In fact, it looks almost familiar.

‘I need to call you something’ Clarke shrugs, holding off a smile of her own.

‘You can call me Bellamy’ he tells her as he places her drink in front of her.

‘Alright, Bellamy’ she says, thinking that there may just be a decent person under the jackass facade. ‘I’m Clarke’.

‘Nice to meet you, Princess’ he replies, his smirk right back on his face before he saunters off to the end of the bar again as Clarke rolls her eyes in irritation.

 _Never mind_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'I must have loved you in other lives because when I see you, it feels like coming home. No-one else makes me feel more myself than you. When my hand is in yours, its familiar and safe. Like I’ve known your soul since the beginning of time. Through all the lives I’ve lived. Maybe that’s why my love for you is infinite.'  
> [\- m.m](http://breakingss.tumblr.com/post/174992957600/i-must-have-loved-you-in-other-lives-because-when)
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	2. If You're Lost, I'll Lead You Back Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Lighthouse' by Hearts & Colors.  
> So chuffed with the response on this fic and I hope you guys continue to enjoy it.

‘Another one, Mr. Lemkin?’ Bellamy asks one of his regulars as he’s passing.

‘Please, Bellamy’ Mr. Lemkin raises his near empty beer glass at him, a sorrowful look on his face as he does so. Bellamy feels for him - he lost his daughter last year and he’s become a regular in Northern Lights ever since. He likes to think that his bar is somewhat of a comfort to those that need it, even though drinking isn’t the best way to handle your grief - something Bellamy knows all too well.

During the week, his regulars come in every evening and look for the answers to their troubles at the bottom of Bellamy’s drinking glasses but if Bellamy and his staff can provide a listening ear for them as well, that’s what they’ll do.

Saturdays are a different story, though. His regulars stay at home or else put up with the massive crowds that are drawn to his bar on that night. The Delinquents have a resident spot on the Northern Lights stage on Saturdays and they have grown quite the following. Bellamy remembers Miller, his high school best friend, practically begging to let him and his bandmates perform one night a week. It wasn’t something Bellamy was fond of in the beginning - he didn’t want them to draw the students in from Polis University. Thankfully, they didn’t and the band always do a good job so really, he can’t complain.

Mainly, their following consists of young, working people or couples. The students prefer places that can provide music they can dance to, which Bellamy is glad of. The last thing he wants is a bunch of pretentious kids in his bar reminding him of everything he couldn’t have. Not to mention that they’d destroy the place with their drunken antics. No - they have places like Grounders nightclub for that carry on. Bellamy doesn’t need or want their business.

In fact, he’s done all he can to get rid of that blonde princess who has come to his bar practically every night he’s been open this past week. He doesn’t need her spreading the word about his bar, especially since she seen how much fun it can be. If this Clarke told her college buddies how The Delinquents rocked the stage and had everyone in flying form on Saturday, he’s sure his attitude and his bar’s lack of dance space would be ignored.

He remembers her sitting on her usual stool on Saturday night, downing vodka and ignoring the constant buzz from her phone all night - like always. However, he did notice her crack a smile at one or two of the songs that Miller, Jasper and Monty played and she even sang along with one of them.

 _Jesus_. Had he really been paying that much attention to her? He can’t deny that his eye is drawn to her easily, like a habit.

Low and behold, she’s here again tonight. Tuesday is quiet, filled with Bellamy’s regulars like most weeknights. Considering he was closed yesterday like every Monday, he thought Clarke would have found a different bar to drown her own sorrows in and then she’d stay there for the rest of this week. Bellamy wouldn’t be that lucky, it seems.

‘Never fear, Princess. I noticed your empty glass and I ran over here to fulfil your every need like a good little knight’ Bellamy grins, purposefully trying to annoy her.

Tonight is different, though. Instead of giving him a smart remark back or looking like he’s irritated her with his nickname for her, Clarke just pushes her empty glass over to him without so much as a quirked eyebrow.

Bellamy frowns, surprisingly disappointed with her lack of fight. In fact, she looks like she could cry. She’s dressed in a black hoodie and the bags under her eyes have only grown darker since he seen her on Sunday. Her hair definitely needs a brush and there’s none of the usual spark behind her eyes. He finds himself wondering when was the last time she slept and what’s bothering her so much to cause her obvious insomnia and drinking binges.

‘Bellamy, could you help me with the crate out back?’ Harper calls him from the other end of the bar.

‘Murphy should be back from his smoke break soon, can he help?’ Bellamy faces her, his tone kind and friendly as it normally is with Harper.

‘I think he’s doing the accounts after his smoke’ Harper tells him as she’s serving another regular of theirs.

‘Okay, just a sec then’ Bellamy resigns.

He usually has Harper and Murphy on with him on Tuesdays for stock take and a general clean-up after their Monday night antics. They use their night off to unwind here at Northern Lights. Even though he can run the bar by himself on Wednesdays and Thursdays, he misses their company on those nights. They come in from nine on Fridays and work for the weekend then. In this moment, though, Bellamy wishes he was on his own.

He wishes he wasn’t required elsewhere because for some reason, he doesn’t want to leave Clarke like this. He’s spent the last week praying that she would just drink somewhere else but now he finds himself praying for that look to be erased from her expression. He knows she’s been troubled but he figured it was just some immature crap that he had no time for - like stress of lectures or a fight with one of her friends. He’s starting to think it’s something a little more than that though and judging by the way her phone keeps hopping, it’s probably to do with a boyfriend. He’s had enough trouble with love himself, so he doesn’t envy her if it’s heartbreak that she’s going through.

‘You doing alright?’ He asks as he slides a fresh drink back to her. It’s only then he seems to register how much she’s had tonight - a lot. The blonde just nods, shoving her hair back from her face and avoiding his eyes.

‘Bellamy, phone call’ Murphy calls for him through the bar door that leads to Bellamy’s apartment upstairs.

‘Who is it?’ Bellamy rolls his eyes, trying not to be too annoyed at being summoned again.

‘Private caller and she wouldn’t tell me a name’ Murphy shrugs, stepping out to the bar to grab the accounts book. At this, Bellamy freezes. There’s usually only one person to call him on a unknown number. He jogs down the bar and into his hallway, snapping his landline up from its place on the wall.

‘O?’ He rushes, already knowing it’s his sister. He hears the faint sound of her breathing down the other end. ‘Octavia. Please.’

The call disconnects and their contact is over for another while. It’s how it always is - she hasn’t spoken to him in any of their ‘phone calls’ in the past two years. She’ll ring every now and then to make sure he’s alive, it seems. Other than that, he doesn’t get anything else.

Bellamy slams the phone back down, groaning in frustration and honestly, trying very hard not to get upset. He takes a moment to try and calm himself, looking up the stairs that leads to his place as he leans against the wall.

His aggravation is only fuelled when he returns out front and glances to his right, seeing Clarke at the other end of the bar being bothered by some Backstreet Boy wannabe. They’re talking in hushed voices and it looks like Clarke might know him, judging by the way she’s hissing at him. Bellamy tries to make himself look busy and he’s unsure why he’s a little invested in the welfare of this girl all of a sudden, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of them all the same.

‘How did you even find…’ Clarke utters, the end of her sentence inaudible to Bellamy’s ears.

‘I had to ask like a million people at Polis where you run off to after lectures - when you bother to turn up to them!’ the boy snaps back, his response most definitely loud enough for Bellamy to hear. He’s gesturing at Clarke with his hands in way too much of a hostile manner for Bellamy’s liking. ‘Seriously, why can’t you just grow up enough to have a mature conversation with me about this?’

‘A mature conversation? Are you kidding me?’ Clarke gapes, before hushing her voice again. ‘Finn, you don’t get to…’

Bellamy barely catches anything of their conversation after that but from the sounds of it, this guy is the reason Clarke has been here every day.

‘You go missing for over a week and then I find you here, of all places?’ Finn growls after a few sentence exchanges. ‘Get up, we’re leaving so we can talk about this properly.’

‘There’s nothing to talk about! You lost the right to speak to me when you cheated on me’ Clarke snaps her head away from him, taking another drink and looking like she’s fully content on ignoring him from now on. Oh, so that’s the story.

‘Clarke. Stop being ridiculous. Get up’ Finn orders, his hands on his hips like he owns her. When she doesn’t answer him, Finn slams his hand down on Bellamy’s bar aggressively and it makes Clarke jump. That’s it.

Bellamy is just making his way around the bar when he sees Finn grab her wrist and his anger level spikes. Clarke instinctively tries to pull away but it clearly only makes Finn hold tighter.

‘I said get up!’ Finn yells at her.

‘You’re hurting me!’

‘Hey! Let her go’ Bellamy interferes, shouting at this asshole before he’s even reached him.

‘Stay out of this’ Finn snaps at him before redirecting his attention back to his ex-girlfriend. He still hasn’t let go of her fucking wrist. When Bellamy reaches him, he shoves Finn with full force and it knocks him back a few steps. He’s forced to let go of Clarke’s arm and when he does, she cradles it and watches the situation unfold before her with wide eyes. Bellamy places himself in between her and Finn, squaring his shoulders and frowning as her ex steadies himself.

‘Get out’ Bellamy grits out. Murphy and Harper are at his end of the bar now, standing guard as if for backup. Not that Bellamy needs it one bit.

‘Fuck off’ Finn scoffs, trying to go around Bellamy and back to Clarke. His eyes are red-rimmed, almost like he’s spent a few days drinking himself so Bellamy knows he’s probably not thinking straight.

‘It wasn’t a suggestion. You’re barred. Get out.’

‘On who’s authority?’ Finn breaks into a laugh and honestly, that alone makes Bellamy want to punch his teeth out.

‘Mine. I own this place’ Bellamy grumbles and he can see Clarke’s stare avert to him from the corner of his eye. ‘You’re not welcome here if you’re harassing my customers.’

‘And Clarke is one of your customers?’ Finn barks out in astonishment. ‘She’s never set foot inside a bar when she was with me!’

‘She’s not with you now, is she?’ Bellamy folds his arms which only makes his arm muscles pop even more. ‘Now, last time, get out before I call the cops.’

Finn looks from Bellamy to Clarke with that stupid, shocked smile on his face. His expression melts into one that looks like understanding, like he’s realising some big secret that’s happening before him. For a minute, Bellamy thinks he isn’t going to go and he’s either going to have to physically remove him or follow through on his threat about calling the authorities. Just when Bellamy is about to move, Finn starts to walk backwards towards the door.

‘You can fucking have her’ he shakes his head at Bellamy before glancing at Clarke over his shoulder. ‘Didn’t take you long to move on, did it Clarke?’

‘Fuck you!’ Clarke is up like a shot, all resignation and calm gone from her persona. ‘You have no fucking right to say that after what you did’ she yells, trying to get out after Finn but Bellamy finds himself holding her little body back. He has no doubt that she could take him - in fact, he almost considers letting her get a good punch in or two. It serves nobody any good though so instead, he just holds her and watches Finn laugh as he exits his bar.

 _Jackass_.

When Bellamy looks back to the girl in his arms though, a pang shoots through his heart because her face is crumpling and she breaks down. Her arms clutch at Bellamy’s as if for support in standing and without much thought on her part, he imagines, she leans her head in against Bellamy’s shoulder and cries.

As much as he liked to tease her and as much as he wanted rid of her privileged ass, he can’t help but pull her closer. His heart rate hasn’t slowed down properly from the adrenaline of the confrontation and having Clarke in his arms like this does nothing to calm it, oddly enough.

‘Sshh, it’s okay’ he soothes. She’s drunk and emotional, so he tells himself that this is what encourages him to gesture to Murphy and Harper to help him and together they bring Clarke behind the bar and up to his apartment.

By the time Clarke is seated on his couch upstairs, she’s shaking.

Murphy heads back out to serve their customers one on the house as per Bellamy’s request because really, they don’t need their night ruined by that asshole. Harper drapes a blanket over Clarke’s shoulders and sits down on the coffee table in front of her, whispering comforting things as Bellamy fills a glass of water from the sink in his adjoining kitchen.

‘You can head back down, Harper’ Bellamy tells her softly when the glass is full. ‘Thank you. You guys got it covered?’

‘Yeah, don’t worry. We’ll lock up later and leave the keys under the bar’ she gives him a warm smile as he approaches the couch. ‘You okay, Clarke?’

Clarke merely nods, her eyes half closed as she clutches the edges of the blanket to close it at her chest. With that, Harper squeezes her knee and gets up to leave. Once his apartment door is closed behind her, Bellamy takes Harper’s place in front of Clarke.

‘Here. Drink this’ Bellamy says quietly, offering her the glass of water in his hand. She takes it weakly, bringing it to her lips and closing her eyes as she takes a mouthful. Once she’s finished, her face crumples and she brings her hand to her forehead.

‘I’m sorry’ she cries, half slurring the words.

‘Hey’ Bellamy gets up and sits beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders in an effort to comfort her. It’s not where he thought he would be tonight, if he’s honest. It feels odd to have her in close proximity like this when he couldn’t really stand the girl prior to this whole ordeal. 'It’s alright. You’re okay.’

‘No. I’m bringing my crap into your bar - I’m so sorry.’

Bellamy’s heart constricts instantly, confused at the fact that she feels she has to apologize for that asshole’s outrageous behaviour.

‘Don’t you dare apologize for him’ Bellamy tells her. Clarke looks at him properly for the first time since she sat down, her eyes glassy from alcohol and tears. ‘He is never to lay a hand on you, inside of my bar or outside it. Got it?’

Clarke waits a minute before she nods, studying Bellamy’s face for something she must find eventually - maybe the genuine concern he’s feeling bubbling in his chest. Her eyes are heavy and he knows she must be struggling to keep them open.

‘Lie down’ he gets up, giving her space for her legs across his couch.

‘No. I should go home’ she mutters, but she’s already leaning back out of what Bellamy imagines is exhaustion. He wonders how long its been since she’s slept properly. From that and the emotional turmoil downstairs, Bellamy admires her for keeping herself awake this long.

‘You can stay here tonight, I got you’ he says quietly, re-wrapping the blanket around her. He doesn’t think she’s even heard him though because by the time she’s hit the couch cushions underneath her, Clarke’s asleep.

Bellamy can’t help but look at her as he tucks her in around her neck, watching the way her breath has evened out and the way her lashes look long against her cheek now that her eyes are closed. He goes about pushing the stray lock of hair behind her ear but thinks better of it - he barely knows this girl.

 

_‘Come to bed, Princess’ Bellamy tucks a piece of hair behind Clarke’s ear, stroking her face as he does so. Her skin is soft under his touch and her mouth quirks up into a small smile._

_‘Mmm. Coming’ she mumbles and Bellamy just smirks, shaking his head as he exhales a puff of breath through his nose._

_It’s not the first time she’s fallen asleep on the couch while reading. He reaches up and tugs on the lamp beside her, pulling their living room into darkness. He settles himself in a sitting position on the couch beside her and drapes her legs across him because even though he knows the bed is more comfortable, he’s not in the habit of sleeping in it without Clarke. He pulls the couch blanket across them, covering her more than him and she hums in contentment - she has no intention of moving for the night._

_‘Night, Princess.’_

_‘Night, baby’ she whispers back._

 

Bellamy stumbles back, clutching his head where a burst of pain has shot through it.

_What the fuck was that?_

He’s breathing heavily as he stares at the near stranger on his couch, wondering what the hell he has just thought of. Had he imagined that? Dreamt it? Wished it?

Maybe he’s more tired than he realised. He had been working a lot lately and maybe even been a little stressed over the monthly numbers. Still, that was a strange result of stress - why the hell would he imagine himself in that situation with this random girl? His heart is pounding and he feels a little panicked, he has no idea what that was.

He had thought of heading back down and helping Murphy and Harper with the bar but fuck that, he’s going to bed. He might as well take advantage of this unexpected night off and after that…episode - he's definitely going to sleep.

He locks the apartment door and comes round the side of the couch, clicking off the lamp beside it. His place falls into darkness and he tries not to think of another him doing that in another situation - it had felt so real. Almost like it was happening, or had happened. _Fuck_. He doesn’t even know what to think.

Collapsing on his bed inside his room, he gets comfortable and just focuses on Octavia and their phone call to get him to sleep. It’s not something he likes to think about, but he’ll do anything to avoid thinking about that dream - and what it could have meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	3. You Can Keep That Piece Of Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Piece Of Me' by MK and it's a song I grew obsessed with when going through my own breakup.  
> This whole fic is actually based off of that experience - feeling lost, wanting to go back because it's comfortable and familiar and being utterly terrified to fall in love again. I've never wrote a fic purely from experience before but it's very therapeutic.

Clarke wakes at the time her body clock is set at - 7am sharp.

Normally, she’s up a few minutes before her alarm, programmed to start her day early from months of routine. It’s a killer on weekends when she doesn’t have lectures and her body decides she can’t go back to sleep for a few more hours.

 _‘There’s always something to be done’_ she hears her mothers voice in her head. Except this time, when she opens her eyes, she isn’t in her bedroom with a list of chores to be do. The couch she’s on is soft and comfortable, but it’s one belonging to a stranger. Bellamy, the _owner_ of Northern Lights - apparently.

Damn, she almost hoped last night was a dream. Images blast through her mind of Finn grabbing her wrist, of Bellamy barring him - of Bellamy holding her as she cried.

 _Fuck_.

She shakes her head, deciding to focus on something else - anything else. The walls of Bellamy’s apartment are a fawn colour, bright enough to make the size of the place look that little bit bigger. As she leans up onto her elbows, squinting one eye open, Clarke sees a small kitchen blended into the living area space. It has a fridge and oven along with a microwave on the countertop that shares the sink, but other than that, not much else. There’s no homey touches anywhere at all in that area. The rest of the place, however, that’s a different story.

As she takes in the rest of the apartment, she learns more about this man that had been kind enough to let her crash here last night. Frames line the wall and shelves with photo’s inside them, too far away for Clarke to really make out anybody in them, though.

He has a good sized television located in front of the couch, way bigger than Clarke’s one back at her place. Under it, where she expects to find some kind of console device like a Playstation, she finds a DVD player which looks like it’s seen better days. An assortment of DVD’s lie messily beside it, many of which are to do with things like wars and gladiators. That, combined with his massive collection of classic novels on his bookshelf, leads her to believe that her knight in shining armour is a bit of a history buff - she would have never pegged him for that.  _The Odyssey_ is lying flat on the shelf, not in line with the rest of the books, and it looks worn as hell - obviously a book he likes to re-read.

Clarke gets up, cradling her hangover gently as she pushes a soft, blue blanket from her shoulders. The bedroom and bathroom door are both open in front of her, leading her to understand that she’s alone.

Clarke’s brow furrows, wondering where Bellamy would be gone at this early hour - the bar never opens until noon. Then again, she doesn’t really know him at all. He could be doing anything - working out, visiting his girlfriend or boyfriend, taking care of a sick parent - it’s anyone’s guess.

Her question is answered when she finds a note on the table beside the couch, pinched under the lamp in case it blew off from the open window.

**‘HAD TO RUN SOME ERRANDS. THE SIDE DOOR DOWNSTAIRS SELF LOCKS, SO JUST CLOSE IT BEHIND YOU. HOPE YOU’RE OKAY. IF YOU EVER NEED ANYTHING, GIVE ME A CALL.’**

His number is scrawled under it in his messy handwriting and her heart flips - not because an attractive guy gave her his number, but because his reason for giving it seems to be out of genuine concern. Clarke thinks back on how he comforted her last night, how he told her not to be sorry for Finn’s actions, how he let her stay. He didn’t have to do that, he barely knows her. He could have just called her a cab like always and sent her home - he already did enough by standing up for her in front of Finn.

Light spills in from the half opened curtains so Clarke pulls them open the rest of the way, folds the blanket on the couch and finger combs her hair in order to look somewhat respectable for someone leaving a bar in the early hours of the morning. As she pockets the note, she takes one last glance around Bellamy’s apartment before closing the door behind her.

The door to the bar appears locked when she comes downstairs but like he said, the side door self locks so Clarke simply pulls it shut and she’s outside in the alley beside Northern Lights. The sun is already up, making the sky appear the most beautiful shade of blue. There isn’t a cloud to be seen, meaning it’s probably going to be another nice spring day. It doesn’t stop Clarke wishing she brought a jacket, though. Being cold this early in the morning is inevitable when the sun hasn’t warmed up the town yet.

The walk home brings nothing but the frustrating thoughts of last night - she had already been having a worse than bad day before Finn found her. Professor Cartwig called Clarke into her office, informing her that she was failing some of her classes. She hadn’t been too surprised, given that she had fuck all interest in her degree as it was. Those classes provided even less motivation for her to proceed with Medicine - that combined with her flaky attendance lately just made her bounce on Cartwig’s radar.

She had barely passed final exams the last two years - to be honest, the only reason she’s in Pre-Med at all is because her tuition is funded for her and this is what she’s expected to do by her mother.

 _Her mother_. Clarke scoffs at the thought. A prestigious surgeon in Arkadia Memorial Hospital, with everything going for her in life. A daughter who would follow in her footsteps and a brand new husband to show off to boot. That alone made Clarke want to quit.

She had been all for being a doctor once - until her father died. What was the point in becoming a doctor when she couldn’t even save someone that was important to her?

Cartwig’s choices were simple - Clarke needed to pull her socks up or risk failing the course, throwing almost three years of training and her mother’s money down the drain. She’s greatly considering the latter. But what would she do then?

When Clarke finally collapses onto her own couch, she groans with tiredness and a faint hangover. She has some serious re-evaluations to do on her life right now. It’s a massive mess. How has she let herself get like this? So miserable, so alone, so lost.

Scrolling through her phone, she fights the urge to nose on Finn’s Facebook page and definitely forces herself not to search for his pretty little side piece. It would serve her no good whatsoever. She can’t believe Finn turned on her like that last night - he’s never laid a finger on her before. Then again, she’s never given him a reason to. She’s never done anything out of line, letting him win most disagreements because it was just easier that way - something else that changed about her during the relationship. She was never the ‘lie down and take it’ type. Only for Bellamy last night, she doesn’t know what might have happened.

Biting her lip, she hovers over her new saved number in her contacts for a few moments before deciding to shoot him a text.

‘Thank you for last night - Clarke.’

She should say more - offer to take him for a cup of coffee to say thanks at least, but that seems too much like a date for Clarke’s liking. No, she’d very much like to stay away from all of that right now. Still though, Bellamy is a good person and a mile off what she initially thought he was. It’s been a long time since anyone showed Clarke that kind of concern or affection, which sounds crazy considering she’s not long out of a serious relationship. The fact that Finn had barely been around lately only highlighted how stupid Clarke had been to stay involved with him.

Normally, times like this would encourage people to lean on other people for support, but Clarke hadn’t even called her mom. The last time they spoke had been almost a year ago and to be honest, Clarke feels more comforted in Northern Lights with Bellamy’s brazen attitude most of the time than she would be from one phone call with her mother.

Clarke isn’t bothered going to class today - and she doesn’t intend on going tomorrow, either. In fact, she emails Professor Cartwig explaining she needs to take a break from the course due to personal issues. She’s not sure if that will be acceptable or not but fuck it, if she loses her place then maybe it’s for the best. She doesn’t give a shit about anything right now. Not about her mom, about Finn, about her future and definitely not about love.

She knows as soon as Northern Lights is opened, she’s going to head down there today. It’s not even for the relief of alcohol anymore, it just feels like an escape at this point. An escape from her life - because there, she’s not expected to be this perfect person. She doesn’t have to attend medical lectures and catch up on dozens of assignments. She doesn’t have to know where she’s going in life. She doesn’t have to deal with a cheating ex who blames her for absolutely everything. She doesn’t have to be a child who lost her father or a daughter who failed her mother.

No - she can just be Clarke Griffin, a Princess with no goddamn duties to anybody.

And that is just fine by her.

 

-

 

As it turned out, Clarke didn’t go to Northern Lights later that day.

Or the next day.

Or the day after that.

In fact, for almost an entire week - Clarke laid on her couch and felt like she was slowly dying from the flu. She had fallen asleep not long after texting Bellamy, only to wake up a couple of hours later with a sore throat. Thinking it was probably from screaming at Finn last night, she simply got up and made herself some breakfast. The toast was barely passed her lips when Clarke found herself rushing to the bathroom to be sick. The fever came after that and all Clarke could do was lie on her couch, wrapped in as much blankets as she could find.

Netflix was her best friend when she was conscious enough and she slept a lot. She even managed to get a few containers of soup delivered for the week - but on Friday, Clarke was sure she was going to die from how she felt. Her head was bursting and she sweated so much, it was like she had been for a swim in the lake. In fact, she got so desperate that she almost called her mother.

She ended up forcing herself to drink some soup before taking some Tylenol and falling back asleep. When she picked up her phone around 6pm, a text from Bellamy was the first thing she seen.

‘Princess. Haven’t been graced with your presence in a while. Just making sure you’re alive, not like you to miss a day in my bar.’

Clarke couldn’t even text him back properly, so she ended up sending him a thumbs up emoji and dropped her phone onto her coffee table. By Sunday, she was starting to come around. Her head didn’t hurt and she had stopped vomiting days ago. Her fever had broken and she even managed to stay awake for a few hours at a time. She felt groggy though, so she still didn’t move off of the couch. She binge watched Stranger Things and forced herself to drink smoothies and other forms of nutritious food in order to build herself back up.

Thankfully, Monday morning brought with it a new Clarke.

She was over the worst of it and found herself able to shower and get dressed. She felt much more like herself by evening and she wished Northern Lights was open tonight. Cabin fever was starting to set in.

Just as she was going to order a pizza - her first proper meal in a week - a message on Facebook got her attention. Gaia, a girl from one of her classes pinged on her phone screen inviting her out with them tonight. It was a group message, clearly sent to everyone in their course year so it wasn’t like Clarke _had_ to go. Yet, she found herself changing into something a little less casual and getting ready to meet them out because it’s not like Clarke ever did this whole bar scene before.

Now that she’s single, she’s going to take every opportunity to socialise where she can - get back to the person that she used to be in high school. Besides, she needs to get out there and meet some people.

Finn always made time to go out and never seemed bothered about inviting her. He always made pubs and bars seem sleazy and unappealing and being honest, Clarke had only been used to house parties in high school so who was she to tell him different? He always acted like he _had_ to go because of a work thing or one of his friends birthdays - like night’s in pubs and clubs weren’t something Clarke would want to go to because _he_ didn’t even want to go. He painted such a sad interpretation of this kind of socialising that it never enticed Clarke in the slightest. It’s why she refused invitations from a few of her classmates in the past.

So, like an idiot, Clarke sat at home waiting for Finn to finish up with his ‘sad night out’ and come over afterwards for sex. Sex that, if being honest, wasn’t the greatest in the world. He didn’t find much time to pleasure Clarke so just as long as he got off, it seemed like the goal was achieved.

 _Jesus_ , she was such a fucking fool.

The real reason Finn didn’t want Clarke out was that had she been out in the bars and clubs with him, she would have ruined his fun with the ladies - that much is clear to her now. Still, she can’t help the pain in her heart that comes with thinking of him. Maybe the part she misses most about their relationship is companionship, having someone there for you.

She shakes herself - enough time has been spent mourning this break up. _No_ , she doesn't need him. Anticipation thrums through her veins as she does a final check in the mirror. Her makeup is done and it makes her look a million times better than she had all week. It was her first time to be so sick and by herself but it just proves she can do it - she can be independent. It wouldn’t hurt to have some people in her corner, though.

She takes a breath and does her best to look more confident than she feels. Voted ‘most social’ in her high school year book? What would her classmates think of her now when she has literally no friends? That’s gonna change, though. It has to.

Closing her apartment door behind her, she finds herself actually missing Northern Lights and oddly enough, the grumpy barman that owns it. It’s a habit of Clarke’s to find comfort zones but Northern Lights will be opened tomorrow, so tonight is all about something different.

Something new and unknown - and Clarke needs to try find somewhere she belongs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	4. Maybe We're Perfect Strangers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Perfect Strangers' by Jonas Blue. So happy to hear you guys are enjoying this fic as much as you are. I can't wait for you to read the upcoming chapters I've prepared.

‘You sure you can’t stay?’ Gina is saying, taking a drag from her cigarette.

The night is actually somewhat warm for the month of April because Bellamy is barely even feeling the breeze on his bare arms. He follows suit, inhaling the smoke from his own cigarette before answering her.

‘Nah, you know they’ll be expecting me for our usual Monday session.’

The parking lot is empty, save for a few cars and the street lamps at the back of The Rig light it up enough for Bellamy to make out Gina’s pretty features clearly. He’d already been there, done that with Gina - wore the t-shirt more than a few times. Yet, she’s always easy to get along with even though they’re not sleeping together anymore.

He had seen her smoking with a few friends as he passed the back of the bar on his way home from getting take-out, obviously on her break. The Rig definitely isn’t as busy as Northern Lights, but it opens on Monday’s so it draws a crowd from the places that closes - like Bellamy’s.

‘Come on, we’d give you a few on the house’ her friend jokes, swinging her arm around Bellamy. She’s blonde and has a nice smile, but Bellamy definitely isn’t going to stay.

His staff and friends all gather in Northern Lights on Mondays to unwind, eat crap food and drink - even though the bar is closed. The guys usually set up their music and blast songs that Bellamy isn’t all that keen on, but everyone dances and has a good time. They’re his family - and Monday night is family night. That’s why it’s easy to decline the girls offers.

‘I’ll take you up on it one day’ Bellamy smiles, taking another smoke and putting his arm around the blonde girl. He’s not overly into her, but it’s nice to flirt and enjoy the attention. He finds himself thinking of another blonde girl in that moment who he hasn’t seen in too long. As much as he wanted rid of her out of his bar, he’s missed her presence on that stool all week.

‘Yeah and then pigs will fly’ a guy Bellamy recognises as Sterling smirks, leaning back against a car. He’s not wrong - Bellamy will never give up family night for something like this.

‘So true, he doesn’t drink’ Gina laughs, throwing her head back. Her curls are pulled back into a tight bun, off of her face for a night of work. If Bellamy really wanted a hook-up, he’d go for Gina over the girl with her arm around him - but he doesn’t want that. Gina had started to develop feelings for Bellamy, that much was obvious after a while of sleeping together. He needed to call it - he was in no frame of mind to get involved like that with anyone again.

Roma, his high-school girlfriend, didn’t stick around Arkadia long after school so she left him for bigger dreams. He couldn’t blame her or hold it against her - they had different life paths. It sucked, but Bellamy managed to pick himself back up. Echo came after that and it was like she waited for Bellamy to fall hard and fast for her before she left him too. That one broke his heart more than he cared to admit to anyone, so he definitely wasn’t going to put Gina through the same ordeal. Not when he didn’t feel that way about her in return.

‘Less of it, Miss Martin’ Bellamy scolds, smirking himself.

‘Bellamy?’

A voice emerges from a small crowd over by The Rig’s backdoor, out smoking themselves. A petite frame walks around the car with blonde, curly hair and pink in the ends.

_Clarke._

‘Hey, Princess’ Bellamy furrows his brow, smiling as he wonders what the hell she’s doing here. She’s dressed in a pair of dark blue, denim shorts and a black tank top which shows off her impressive cleavage. Her long legs end in a pair of black, heeled ankle boots and the look is finished off with a cigarette between her fingers. She’s gorgeous - Bellamy would be a fool not to notice.

‘I thought it was you’ she smiles as she makes her way over to them. ‘Hi’ she addresses the rest of them confidently. Bellamy catches Gina giving her a once over, flicking her stare up and down Clarke before giving her a polite ‘hello’.

‘Thought you vanished off the face of the Earth’ Bellamy smirks, removing his arm from around Gina’s friend.

‘Oh my God, I was so sick’ Clarke tells him, shaking her head as she takes a puff from her cigarette. Bellamy’s heart skips in concern, a feeling that seems to fall over him lately with this girl.

‘Are you okay?’ He asks, his tone coming out more serious than he intended.

‘Oh yeah, I’m better now’ she leans her back against the car beside Sterling. ‘It was tough to shake by myself though.’ Bellamy finds himself wondering why she had no-one there to look after her. Where were her family? Friends? ‘Someone better not have taken my seat at the bar’ she breaks him out of his thought process before he can think about it too much.

‘Would I let that happen?’ He huffs out a laugh, flicking his curls out of his eyes.

‘We gotta get back’ Gina interrupts as she quenches her cigarette. Her friends follow suit, waving at Bellamy and Clarke as they walk towards The Rig. ‘See you around’ Gina gives him a tight lipped smile, glancing at Clarke before following her friends.

‘Bye’ Bellamy smiles, noticing the awkwardness as much as Clarke probably is. It wasn’t like Gina to be jealous and besides, he barely knows Clarke. There’s hardly anything obvious looking between them.

‘So’ Clarke sighs out a deep breath. ‘You out for the night?’

‘No, I’m actually heading back to the bar’ Bellamy holds up the bag of take-out with his fingers around the handles.

‘I thought you close Monday’s?’ Clarke makes a face, taking another drag of her cigarette.

‘I do, but Murphy and Harper and the others always come around’ Bellamy shrugs, implying wordlessly that they have a bit of a get-together.

‘That’s nice’ Clarke smiles. There’s a bit of a silent stretch before she speaks again. ‘Listen. I want to thank you for last week - with Finn’ she looks to the ground, almost like she’s embarrassed.

‘It was nothing’ Bellamy tells her. He thought about her a lot all week, if he’s honest. He didn’t like how Finn acted with her and he definitely wondered if he had bothered her since. So he asks her. ‘You haven’t seen him?’

‘No’ Clarke widens her eyes as she shakes her head, looking relieved. ‘Although tonight is the first time I’ve left my apartment since Tuesday, so there was probably little chance of running into him.’

‘Well, it’s good to see you looking like you’re not made of sadness for once’ Bellamy smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at her. It’s not a lie, Clarke is smiling more than he’s ever seen her and it suits her. She looks good.

Clarke opens her mouth in false hurt.

‘Hey, I can be fun’ she grins, meeting his eye as Bellamy laughs. ‘Jackass’ she licks her lips before taking another smoke.

‘Clarke, you coming?’ A girl with a military style cut hairstyle calls from the backdoor. Her group of friends are clearly getting ready to leave.

‘We’re heading to a house party now’ Clarke tells Bellamy after giving her friend a nod. ‘Can’t persuade you to come?’

Bellamy shakes his head, holding up his take-out again.

‘They’re probably like starving dogs at the bar right now.’

This draws another laugh out of Clarke. Bellamy watches as she quenches her cigarette with her boot and turns to walk towards her friends, giving a small wave to Bellamy before she goes. He finds himself admiring how good she looks - when does he look at her like this? Since when does he check out the annoying, pretentious girl that plagued his bar for an entire week?

‘Hey, Princess?’ he hears himself calling after her. She swings around, walking backwards as she waits for him to continue. ‘Be careful.’

Clarke smiles, nodding once before giving him another short wave and then she’s on her way, jogging a little to catch up with her group that’s already started walking. Bellamy puffs out his cheeks, blowing air out of them slowly as he turns himself and starts walking home. There’s something so different about that girl, yet familiar all at once.

He can’t stop himself from thinking about the dream or vision or whatever he had that night in his apartment. He hasn’t had anything like that before and nothing since, but he can’t figure out what it meant or even what it was. He had tried to keep it out of his mind all week but now, he lets the memory replay over and over with each step back to the bar.

It was so domestic and sweet, tucking her in and falling asleep with her on the couch. He doesn’t know this girl enough to even want that with her so why would his brain conjure that vision?

He’s not ready to get involved with anyone like that yet and hasn’t been for a long time. He definitely doesn’t want it.

So why does it send heat rushing around his heart every time he thinks of her face?

 

-

 

Bellamy’s phone ringing startles him out of sleep.

After he notices Clarke’s name as the person who is calling him, he notices the time. 3am.

_What the hell?_

‘You okay?’ He uses as a means of greeting, his voice half shot from sleep. He’s barely in bed himself, having kicked the last of his friend’s out only an hour ago. He was so tired, but now he’s wide awake - leaning up on one elbow in his bed as he presses the phone to his ear.

‘I’m sorry for calling, for waking you’ Clarke admits at the other end, her words slurring into one another very slightly - but because Bellamy is completely sober, he notices.

‘No it’s fine, what’s going on?’

Clarke just sighs, puffing out a heavy breath of air down the phone. It sounds like she’s in a bathroom if the echoes are anything to go by, but Bellamy can hear the faint hum of music and chatter in the background as if it’s coming through walls of concrete. She’s obviously still at her house party.

‘Princess?’ He calls her again, sitting up fully now at the edge of his bed.

‘I need to get out of here’ Clarke mumbles after a beat. Bellamy doesn’t even think about it, he’s already pulling on his red flannel shirt that is draped over the chair in his bedroom. It’s a struggle in the darkness of the room, but he does the best he can as he buttons his jeans with two hands, holding the phone against his ear with his shoulder.

‘Where are you?’

 

-

 

As it turned out, the party was far across town so Bellamy took his rover out. He finds himself parked outside a large apartment building which looks so fancy that Bellamy almost feels bad for parking outside it in his beat up rover. He couldn’t afford a place like this if he worked ten jobs.

At last, after texting Clarke that he was outside, she emerges quickly from the lobby doors and practically jogs over to the passenger seat. She looks the same as when he left her at The Rig, except visibly more drunk and a little panicked. Once she has the rover door closed, she sinks back into the seat and takes a deep breath.

‘Thank you.’

‘Everything okay?’ Bellamy asks as he starts the ignition. As he’s reaching into the back to pull out a blanket for her, Finn appears outside the apartment block.

Really? This guy again?

Bellamy quirks an eyebrow at him as he throws the blanket over Clarke which she hugs into her chest. Finn makes no move to come towards Bellamy’s car but instead, he just folds his arms and stares at him like Bellamy is doing some great crime here by collecting Clarke. Jealousy seems to be in the air tonight.

‘Drive’ Clarke mumbles after spotting him herself and Bellamy does what he’s asked, not having to be told twice.

It’s not until they’re flying through the streets, well away from the apartment block, that Bellamy talks.

‘So, that place looked nice.’

He imagines that it’s what Clarke’s place will look like when he drops her back there - way too expensive for anyone like him.

‘Was alright. Not my style’ Clarke replies as she stares out the window, watching stores blend by them as Bellamy drives. The streets are pretty much empty at this hour, lit by street lamps and not much else. He raises his brows at her response - he certainly had her pegged for the posh type. ‘Gaia, a girl from my class - she lives there’ Clarke continues, her voice quiet. ‘Her mom pays for it, she’s some high official in the army or something.’

‘She’s your friend from Polis?’ Bellamy wonders, keeping an eye on the road but occasionally glancing at the girl next to him.

‘No. She just invited our class out tonight and I went with some lame hope that I’d actually make some new friends’ she scoffs.

‘You tired of your old ones or something?’ Bellamy smirks but his joke falls flat when Clarke answers him.

‘I don’t have any.’

Bellamy’s brow pinches together and he finds himself feeling sorry for her - she seems like a nice girl, friendly and bubbly and outgoing. How the hell has she made it to what he assumes is her early twenties without having any kind of friend to her name?

‘You didn’t make any at the party then?’

‘No’ Clarke scoffs again, still not looking at him. She’s playing with a stray string on the blanket in what Bellamy thinks is an effort to distract herself from showing how upset that makes her. ‘They don’t have the same sense of humour as me, they all love Medicine unlike me and they don’t give a shit if I’m uncomfortable because my ex shows up to their goddamn party - he knew one of the guys there.’

Bellamy bites his tongue, not wanting to ask too much of her because again, he doesn’t really know this girl. But for the first time, he can admit he wants to get to know her. So asking why she’s doing a degree she clearly doesn’t enjoy is another question that can be saved for later.

‘Did he bother you?’ Bellamy asks instead, genuinely interested in whether Tarzan manhandled her again this time.

‘No, he didn’t get the chance’ Clarke says through the quiet of the rover. ‘When I realised Gaia was going to let him stay, I locked myself in the bathroom and called you.’

Bellamy’s heart jumps a little and he’s not sure why - maybe it’s because he knows she could have called a cab or a member of her family to come and get her.

‘I’m glad you did that’ he hears himself say and for the first time since getting into the rover, Clarke looks at him. He holds eye contact with her for as long as he can before he has to look back at the road but she smiles - looking genuinely grateful for that comment.

She directs him back to her place and he’s surprised to see it’s only about a ten minute walk from his bar. It’s a nice apartment block, but affordable. Maybe he misjudged this girl completely.

‘Thanks, Bellamy’ she says as she clicks off her belt, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Bellamy’s stomach flips as the image of him doing that in his dream comes to the forefront of his mind, but he shakes it out. ‘I really appreciate this.’ She sounds more sober now and definitely less upset.

‘Anytime, Princess’ his voice vibrates through the thick silence between them.

Clarke blushes, dipping her head in shyness and Bellamy realises how much she’s obviously grown to like his nickname for her.

‘Hey’ he finds himself saying. ‘If you’re looking to make friends, you should come to the bar on Monday night’s - get to know some of my friends. They definitely won’t let your ex show up’ he smirks.

‘I might just take you up on that’ she smiles wide, giggling a little. With that, she shrugs out of the blanket, gets out of the rover and bangs the door closed - it’s so old that sometimes it needs a little forced push to get it to click closed properly. ‘Thanks again’ she says through the open window, leaning her forearms across it. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

Bellamy just nods, giving her a small smile as she backs away from his rover and makes her way up the apartment steps.

It’s not until he’s driving back towards the bar that he finds himself wondering why he almost said ‘ _I hope so_ ’ in response to her last sentence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	5. Let It Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Let It Go' by James Bay and it's also the song in the chapter too. Thank you for all your comments on the last chapter, you guys are amazing.

‘So, how long have you known Bellamy?’ Clarke asks Murphy on Tuesday.

It’s her first time being in Northern Lights in a week and she’s missed it. It’s turned into a place she can depend on and a place that makes her feel less alone. She’s become accustomed to it’s sweet scent and the little noises that make the bar what it is - glasses clinking, people chatting and ordering drinks and their footsteps on the wood floor. She doesn’t even feel like drinking, more than content to just sit on her stool and watch Murphy stock bottles behind the bar.

‘Uh’ he hums, clearly trying to add up the time in his head. ‘About three years now, I think.’

Clarke raises her eyebrows in surprise, picking at the peanuts in the bowl in front of her. Murphy stands, stretching out his back before reaching for the rest of the crate. He’s the complete opposite to Bellamy’s appearance - he’s not as tall as Bellamy, for one. His slim build suits his height though and his brown hair is cut short, spiking a little at the top. He has a jawline beard and when he faces Clarke, his dark blue eyes hold devilment in them.

‘You interested in our young Mr. Blake, then?’ He smirks, bending back down to the small fridges under the bar.

‘No’ Clarke says adamantly, flicking her stare back down to the peanuts. ‘Just wondering how you know him.’

‘Was in a bad place, drinking every night of the week in here since he opened’ Murphy shrugs as much as he can in that position. ‘He offered me a job and a pep talk - told me I was worth more than paying him while I wasted my life, that I mattered.’ With that, he stands back up and wipes his hands in a dry cloth. ‘Saved my life.’

‘He has a lot of customers like that - why offer you a job?’ Clarke asks, not unkind. She’s just curious at what encouraged that act of charity. Murphy shrugs again.

‘Think he saw a bit of himself in me' he tells her and Clarke's brow twitches, wondering if perhaps Bellamy had been in Murphy's position at one point. 'Or else I was just lucky - I don’t really question it. I just show up, work my ass off for him and thank every deity out there that he gave me an opportunity. I was so close to ending up on the streets, so I owe him everything.’

‘That was nice of him’ Clarke pops a peanut into her mouth, admiring Murphy’s honesty at how soft he is for Bellamy. He seems to have one of those tough-guy exteriors, so it surprises her that he’s talking like that about his boss.

‘That’s just Bellamy’ Murphy says as he uses the cloth to wipe down the bar now. ‘He’d give you the clothes off his back if it meant making someone else’s life easier.’

‘He seemed like such an ass before’ Clarke snuffs out a breath through her nose before she says it, something akin to a chuckle. Murphy grins, nodding his head.

‘Ah, yep. He can be that too.’

‘Same again, Mr. Lemkin?’ Harper appears from the bar door that leads into Bellamy’s hallway, jumping straight into serving another customer at the far end of the bar. She’s pretty with long, sandy blonde hair and a figure Clarke would kill for. When she smiles, her whole face lights up and from Clarke’s experience of the night she comforted her after Finn, she knows Harper is an unbelievably nice person to boot.

‘What about Harper?’ Clarke nods towards her, vaguely wondering if there was something between this girl and Bellamy. ‘How did she end up here?’

‘I think she was friends with Bellamy in high-school. Her and Miller’ Murphy explains, not giving her much else about Harper’s backstory. ‘Bellamy’s also 26, single and enjoys Greek Mythology.’ Clarke makes a face and Murphy laughs. ‘I’m not surprised you’re into him, but at least try to make it less obvious. Be cool.’

‘I am not into him’ Clarke corrects him vehemently, a little insulted that he would just assume that. She isn’t about to admit that hearing Bellamy is single spiked her interest - it’s just that she can’t understand how someone apparently so good, kind and obviously attractive doesn’t have any significant other. ‘I’m not getting with anyone from now on. Waste of time.’

‘Good luck with that’ Murphy’s voice is laced with sarcasm. He heads out back to get another crate and it leaves Clarke alone to question herself.

She’s just trying to get to know Bellamy a little better, as a friend. There’s nothing wrong with that. Sure, she’d be an idiot if she didn’t find him attractive but she doesn’t have to act on it - and she won’t either.

‘The Princess returns’ the man himself appears behind her, coming through the front door of Northern Lights. He’d been at the bank when she arrived and his curls are messy from the wind outside. It’s been raining lightly all day, so the little drops of mist glisten on his hair when he comes under the lights of the bar. ‘No drink?’ He notices, quirking an eyebrow as he puts down what Clarke assumes is an accounts book. ‘My staff not doing their jobs?’

‘Maybe I just didn’t order one’ Clarke smirks and Bellamy laughs, filling her a glass of vodka.

It’s around 6pm so Clarke doesn’t feel too bad having a drink now - at least it’s not noon like it normally is. For the first time in a long time though, she doesn’t feel like she needs it. Sure, she’s still pissed and hurt over Finn - but the want of alcohol to numb the sensation is absent.

‘Just one’ she tells him as she accepts it and Bellamy gives her a knowing smile, almost like he doesn't believe her. Clarke just rolls her eyes, grinning at him and they both chuckle.

He’s different - much different than she thought he was. He isn’t as argumentative or hostile with her as he was before, meaning Clarke is able to strip back some layers herself. He’s kind and would clearly do anything for anyone, given that he basically got out of bed at stupid o’ clock and came to her rescue last night. He was a good listener - he didn’t push her to talk about anything nor did he force her to reveal too much about herself. She hasn’t had a friend in a long time, but she’s starting to think he could be one.

And if Murphy’s opinion of him is anything to go by, she couldn’t have picked a better person. He might be rough around the edges but he’s good - really good.

‘Any word from Russell Brand?’ Bellamy asks as he flicks open his account book, writing in some figures on the bartop. Clarke can’t help but giggle at his condescending nickname for Finn. His longer hair had always grabbed some attention - most of the time from the ladies, apparently.

‘No - he’s quit calling for one.’

‘Good’ Bellamy’s lips twitch up, clearly satisfied that she has been left alone. ‘How’d you get involved with a guy like him anyway?’

‘He didn’t seem all that bad at first’ Clarke swirls her straw around her glass. ‘He was nice. I don’t know - I had a lot going on at the time and I just started at Polis, guess I ignored a lot and put up with the rest after a while.’

‘Not something anyone should have to do’ Bellamy mumbles and Clarke watches as he scrawls pretty writing across the page. He’s left handed, something Clarke absentmindedly notes in her brain as something else she’s learned about Bellamy Blake today.

‘Won’t be doing it again, anyway. Too much hassle involved in relationships.’

‘So you’re taking a break from dating?’ Bellamy’s head pops up momentarily before staring back down at his notes.

‘Indefinitely’ Clarke sighs, feeling the horrible churn her stomach does when she thinks of how alone she is now - it makes her miss Finn momentarily. ‘It never works out.’

‘Don’t be so cynical’ Bellamy says lightly, closing his book before sauntering off into the back. How could she not be cynical? Her parents relationship didn’t work, her one with Lexa didn’t work and now this with Finn.

She read once that if love isn’t mad, passionate and extraordinary, it’s a waste of time. Life is too short for anything less - but the catch is that love like that only exists in romance novels and soppy movies. It’s designed to make your heart fill and emotion bubble in your chest and so people dive head first into relationships hoping it will be like that. It never lives up to it and surely Bellamy isn’t that naive to believe it.

Even if it were like that, what would be the point? Everyone leaves in the end. They cheat and lie or else the love fades to the point where two people end up being just friends. The passion dips, sex stops being frequent and then the other party looks elsewhere.

Clarke scoffs to herself, smirking at her own stupidity for even trying again after Lexa.

Shame on her for even bothering with Finn.

 

-

 

It’s Friday night before Bellamy wonders why Clarke hasn’t been to class all week. It’s blatantly obvious considering she’s been hanging out in his bar whenever the goddamn place opened. She hasn’t been drinking, instead just taking solace in chatting to Harper, Murphy and Bellamy.

In fact, she’s adopted the role of collecting empty glasses for them and even sweeping the floor the odd day.

She just shrugged the question off, muttering something about time off because most students don’t attend anyway this close to exams, the need to study trumping classes by a mile. He already thought she was some entitled girl of privilege before - he doesn’t need to think that she’s blowing off her free education on top of it.

She ended up chatting with Harper earlier in the week, who informed her that Bellamy had a tough time growing up. He always dreamed of attending college, maybe to pursue history or teaching or whatever - but ‘it wasn’t in the cards for him.’ Whatever that meant. He’d surely be pissed with Clarke though if he knew she was throwing away something he only wished he could have.

‘Harper’ a voice interrupted Bellamy’s next question, because he definitely didn’t buy that crap of ‘time off’ when he could see students filing in and out of Polis University every day across from the bar. Also, this close to exams, everyone needs to be attending class for the last few pieces of vital information - that much is obvious even to people not in college - so Clarke is glad of the distraction.

The voice belonged to a young man strolling through the door. He’s of Asian descent, short and slim but the friendliness that fills his face matches Harper’s perfectly. When he leans up over the bar and presses a kiss to her lips, it’s clear these two are an item. He takes a seat in front of Harper, fixing his short, black hair out of what looks like habit. Another two men follow him in, hand in hand as they wave greetings to Bellamy and the others.

‘Miller’ Murphy greets him with a smirk as he finishes clean up. ‘Thought you’d vanished off the face of the Earth.’

‘Shut up, Murphy. You seen me last weekend when we were playing’ Miller beckons towards the stage, smirking back at him as he claps Murphy’s hand in that ‘bro-like’ fashion boys like to do.

So this is the famous Miller - Bellamy’s high school friend. His hair is shaved, almost with military precision and Clarke knew she recognised him. He’s the drummer in The Delinquents, that band that play here on Saturday night’s. The man by his side is thin and seems quiet. His dark hair is a little longer than Monty’s and he takes a seat at one of the tables in the centre of the bar beside his boyfriend. The bar is empty of strangers and residents now, leaving just the friend group inside.

‘Jackson, want a drink?’ Murphy calls as he starts filling one for Miller and Monty. Jackson nods politely, squeezing Miller’s hand in affection. They’re cute together and Clarke smiles at their soft interactions.

‘Guys, this is Clarke’ Harper tells them as she rounds the bar and passes her, locking the front door. Clearly, she’s not being kicked out along with the rest of the customers. Guess that means she’s considered a friend.

‘Hi’ she smiles and they all acknowledge her in return.

‘Come and sit with us, Clarke’ Miller pats a spare seat beside him and Clarke, grateful for the welcome, makes her way to their table. She imagines the others will join them soon when they’re finished cleaning up. Bellamy nods encouragingly at her as she passes him from his place behind the bar, circling a glass with a dry cloth.

‘So, you’re the one Bellamy has been talking about?’ Miller quirks a brow as she takes a seat. She glances across at Bellamy who just smirks, shaking his head and his curls along with it.

‘Oh, he’s been talking about me?’ Clarke grins, narrowing her eyes at the man behind the bar.

‘Don’t worry, he talks about everything’ Miller says as he takes his beer from Murphy, bringing the bottle to his lips in one motion. ‘When we were enlisted, he never shut the hell up. You learn to ignore it.’

‘You guys served?’ Clarke tilts her head, glancing at Bellamy once more. He doesn’t look up this time, instead he just keeps cleaning. There’s clearly a lot to learn about this man.

‘Yeah. Bellamy bought the bar when he finished but I did a few more years’ Miller shrugs. ‘Met this guy over there then, my own personal doctor’ he beckons towards Jackson with his head, giving him a wink.

‘Oh, you’re in Medicine?’ Clarke asks with interest. Maybe he could give her some tips on how to actually love the goddamn subject.

‘Yeah’ Jackson starts. ‘I did a few tours but I’m over in Arkadia Memorial now.’

Clarke nods, bringing her glass to her lips and finishing off the rest of her vodka. She doesn’t ask any more, doesn’t want to even know if he works with her mother. He probably knows of her, depending on his area of expertise.

‘Clarke, aren’t you doing Pre-Med in Polis University?’ Harper joins the table along with Monty, taking a seat across the table from her.

‘Yeah’ Clarke replies, wishing her glass had more in it so she could make herself look busy.

‘Oh, you’re going to be a doctor?’ Jackson’s eyes light up, obviously eager to discuss this further with her.

‘Maybe one day’ she replies simply. ‘So Monty, how long have you been dating Harper?’

Monty dives into telling her how they met a couple of years ago at a music festival and Clarke is relieved that the subject has strayed far away from her life choices right now. Bellamy and Murphy are last to join them and when they squeeze in either side of her, Clarke notices Bellamy is the only one without a drink. Come to think of it, she’s never seen him have one. Maybe he doesn’t drink near the weekend - especially considering Saturday ends up being one of the busiest nights at Northern Lights. It's not something you really want to be hungover for.

Conversation drifts back and forth, varying into an array of topics. Clarke finds herself laughing at their jokes and in turn, they all laugh at hers. Murphy recounts funny Monday night memories of the group and Clarke has tears in her eyes when he recalls the one where Bellamy had to spend one Tuesday morning before they opened mopping up Miller’s vomit.

‘That was Jasper’s fault!’ Miller holds up his hands, deflecting the blame completely.

‘To be fair, it was Bellamy’s for even letting Jasper behind the bar to mix drink in the first place. You know what he’s like’ Monty chuckles.

‘Alright, we all make mistakes’ Bellamy shakes his head, laughing as he receives a light shove from Miller.

Clarke lets herself stare at him for a minute as he sits beside her. She observes the way his shoulders shake when he laughs and how the freckles she never noticed before crinkle on his nose with certain expressions. His white smile is enough to make anyone swoon and his muscles seem to stretch the navy t-shirt he’s wearing when he folds his arms. He’s a complete catch - how is he single?

‘Where is Jasper tonight anyway?’ Harper asks, saving Clarke from being caught gaping at Bellamy.

‘Think it’s date night with Maya’ Monty shrugs, excusing himself from the table after that to use the facilities.

The bar looks odd without anybody in it, quiet save for their voices and laughter. The dim lighting makes it homey and warm though and Clarke finds herself more content here than she has felt anywhere else in a long time.

‘Found the old reliable on the way back’ Monty waves an acoustic guitar as he sits down.

‘Don’t you guys wreck our heads enough on Saturday’s?’ Murphy groans but when Monty starts strumming away on the strings, beautiful music fills the place and Murphy doesn’t seem to mind that much.

Monty is good - he’s a great singer and it doesn’t take an expert to know that this is his role in the band. From what Clarke has seen while she watched them perform, Miller is on drums while another guy, presumably Jasper, plays bass and sings backing vocals. They’re insanely talented and Clarke knew a lot of songs they were singing last time.

Tonight, however, it’s nice to hear the simple sound of an acoustic guitar and Monty’s incredible voice on its own. He sings songs from artists like Dean Lewis and Imagine Dragons and Clarke finds herself getting lost in them. She forgot how much she loved playing guitar.

‘Can I have a go?’ Clarke surprises herself as she extends her arm when his current song finishes. She feels Bellamy’s eyes snap to her, clearly taking him by surprise as well. Monty furrows his brow, confusion filling his expression.

‘Uh, sure!’ He says, sounding pleasantly taken aback to hear she might be able to play and hands the guitar across the table to her. Bellamy shifts in his chair to give her room with the instrument and Murphy follows suit on the other side of her. She adjusts the guitar on her lap, fixes her posture and fiddles with the strings a little to get the feel of it once more. The pick between her fingers feels foreign because it’s been years, but yet she’s itching to play.

She just starts without thinking about it too much - the first song that comes to mind. The last time she played at all was with her father - before he died. She ignores the pinch in her heart at this realisation and just focuses on the way her fingers move across the chords.

‘ _From walking home and talking loads, to seeing shows in evening clothes with you_ ’ her delicate voice breaks against the instrumental music, singing with the voice she knows her father loved to hear.

It’s a song that she loves - yet the more she sings it, she realises how fitting it is to her life right now. She can feel the group exchange looks amongst themselves, because it’s a natural surprise to most people that she has a voice like this. Even Finn didn’t know she played guitar or sang. No - that was something reserved for her father’s ears. It didn’t feel right playing when he couldn’t hear her anymore. Maybe she wouldn’t even be playing now if she didn’t have a few drinks in her.

Her hair is pushed behind her ear as she watches the guitar and Bellamy is watching her - she knows that much.

‘ _From nervous touch and getting drunk, to staying up and waking up with you. Now we’re sleeping near the edge, holding something we don’t need. Oh, this delusion in our heads is gonna bring us to our knees_.’

Out of her peripheral vision, Clarke sees Bellamy’s Adam’s apple bob and she knows he’s staring at her with such gravity in this moment. It gives her goosebumps as she sings out the lyrics. She’s never been a performer, but if this is how it felt to have someone like Bellamy watch her play - damn, she’d do it every night.

‘ _So come on, let it go. Just let it be. Why don’t you be you, and I’ll be me? Everything that’s broke, leave it to the breeze. Why don’t you be you, and I’ll be me? And I’ll be me_.’

Because her voice burst out to almost it’s full potential at the chorus, she can hear Harper mutter a curse of admiration under her breath and she’s pretty sure Murphy and Miller’s jaw’s are on the floor. When she finally looks up, Monty is staring at her wide-eyed and Jackson is smiling, impressed at her hidden talent. It’s not like they know her, but clearly they didn’t expect this from her either. Then again, the song choice is beautiful. The melody would make anyones skin go on fire.

‘ _From throwing clothes across the floor_ ’ she drops her voice a little lower at this part. ‘ _To teeth and claws and slamming doors at you. If this is all we’re living for, why are we doing it, doing it, doing it anymore?_ ’

Clarke swallows in preparation for the next bit, knowing it hits home with Finn and hers relationship all too much.

‘ _I used to recognise myself, it’s funny how reflections change. When we’re becoming something else, I think it’s time to walk away_.’

She finally glances at Bellamy who only confirms her previous suspicions. He is looking at her with such an intensity that she’s sure he can almost see through her, right into her soul. It’s a familiar look, oddly enough but Clarke flicks her stare back down to her guitar before she has time to think on it.

‘ _So come on, let it go. Just let it be. Why don’t you be you, and I’ll be me? Everything that’s broke, leave it to the breeze. Why don’t you be you, and I’ll be me? And I’ll be me_.’

‘Fuck’ she hears Bellamy mutter under his breath and the husk in his voice makes Clarke’s heart stutter in her chest.

‘ _Trying to fit your hand inside of mine, when we know it just don’t belong. There’s no force on Earth could make it feel right, no. Trying to push this problem up the hill, when it’s just too heavy to hold. Think now’s the time to let it slide_.’

She drops her voice as low as it can while still being audible, knowing this part in the song is completely delicate before it revs up again. She barely plucks the guitar strings either here, making her voice more dominant and fragile in the silence of the bar.

‘ _So come on, let it go. Just let it be. Why don’t you be you, and I’ll be me?_ ’ Clarke takes a breath, trying to gather enough power behind her voice for the last bit. She picks back up the melody on the instrument, only adding to the emotion behind her voice. ‘ _Everything that’s broke, leave it to the breeze. Let the ashes fall, forget about me. Come on, let it go. Just let it be. Why don’t you be you, and I’ll be me?_ ’ She lets her fingers fade out the music on the guitar softly before finishing. ‘ _And I’ll be me_.’

Silence drops over the entire bar like a shadow and suddenly, Clarke feels self-conscious. She’s never sang in front of a group of people before and now she’s wondering if her voice is rusty or if she missed a few chords, so she can’t bring herself to look up at anyone.

‘Clarke’ she hears someone say through the quiet and when she recognises the low voice belongs to Bellamy, her head snaps up.

It’s the first time she’s ever heard him call her by her name - normally it’s just ‘Princess’. He’s staring at her, eyes sweeping over her face intimately. The quiet draws out and it feels like they’re looking at one another for an entire lifetime.

‘That was unbelievable!’ Murphy exclaims before Bellamy can say anything, clapping Clarke on the back from the other side. Clarke finds a smile forming on her face at Murphy, reluctantly moving her eyes away from Bellamy.

‘Holy shit, Clarke!’ Harper squeals and Monty starts clapping, encouraging a round of applause from the rest of the group.

‘Damn girl, who taught you to play like that?’ Miller asks with pure wonder.

‘My dad’ Clarke says quietly, smiling softly and feeling a bit overwhelmed by their positivity. They all make her feel so at home with them, so accepted.

‘That was something else’ Jackson adds as the applause dies down. It’s not until Bellamy stands up, clutching his head that it seems to stir her out of her compliment bubble.

‘Hey, you okay?’ Clarke asks, watching him round the bar.

‘Yeah, just a headache - be right back’ he calls over his shoulder to her. Clarke is swept back up by the group’s praises but her mind keeps replaying how Bellamy was looking at her.

It was like she was the only thing to ever exist in this world and really, she can’t think of a time anyone ever looked at her like that. It was like something out of a movie.

Something that isn’t supposed to be real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	6. We All Need Somebody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Need Somebody' by Xuitcasecity and it's beyond fitting for this fic:  
>  _'You had a taste of love, but he fucked up and now you're numb. You said your over and done, over and done with love. I know that you can do it all by yourself. You probably really don't need my help, but we all need somebody to love.'_

Bellamy barely makes it out the door into the alley before his chest bursts open in a panic attack.

Graffiti coats the wall in front of him and he tries to focus on it as his heart pounds. He talks to himself in his head, using a technique he used to teach his sister once. He counts every blue line of painted art he sees, then moves onto the red and green and so on. Focusing on external features like that distracts the brain, although it seems to be doing little to calm his breathing right now.

He’s gasping, holding onto the wall as he welcomes the cold air around him into his pores. The external light above his door shines strong around the alleyway, keeping the night’s darkness at bay but it just means passersby can see him if they look down here. He can’t bring himself to care, though.

‘ _Fuck_ ’ he pants, trying to ignore the heaviness on his chest that makes him feel like he’s being crushed. Despite his urge to keep heaving his lungs up, trying to pull in air he can’t seem to get, he stops. The panic inside him tells him to keep trying because as always, his mind is telling him he’s dying. But no, he holds his breath for five seconds and then slowly, draws a fresh one in.

It’s hard, but it’s a practiced technique and immediately he starts to feel better. He can breath again. He takes a few minutes of catching his breath and letting the panic subside, collecting himself before scrubbing a hand through his curls.

_Holy shit._

His head is still spinning, both from the lack of oxygen and from the vision he’s just had.

 

_‘Bellamy’ Clarke chuckles as he kisses her neck. ‘Stop’ she scolds. ‘I need to practice.’_

_She’s sat at the piano, her gentle fingers that Bellamy loves so much trailing the keys on the board in front of her. She’s wearing a black dress with a deep V neck, showing off her beautiful chest and giving him easy access to her neck. Her little diamond necklace that he bought her last Christmas rests there, making her look even better._

_‘Take a break’ he whispers against her skin and Clarke sighs contently. She throws her head back against his shoulder, her perfect blonde curls going with her._

_‘I can’t’ she complains, sounding as disappointed as Bellamy feels. ‘You know my parents are expecting me to play this piece next weekend.’_

_‘They expect that at every one of their anniversaries’ Bellamy rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling because he can’t blame them. Who wouldn’t want to show off their daughters impressive skills? He moves away and takes a seat at their living room table behind her, his white shirt a little creased from wearing it all day._

_‘You love my singing’ Clarke shrugs one shoulder, letting her fingers fall against the keys once more._

_‘Sounds like cats in a swinging bag’ Bellamy jokes and Clarke swings around on the seat, her mouth agape in false hurt. Bellamy grins, shaking his head. ‘I’m kidding. You know what it does to me.’_

_At this, Clarke’s shoulders jump in a quiet laugh and she bites her bottom lip, staring at Bellamy adoringly._

_‘You know what you do to me’ she whispers._

 

Something is wrong with him.

What the hell is making Bellamy have these visions or dreams or whatever the fuck they are?

He was just sitting beside her, watching Clarke in total awe as she played the guitar and sang. This girl just surprised him every goddamn day - who knew she had that in her? His mouth was dry and he couldn’t pull his eyes away from her - the way her fingers moved along the strings, the way her voice rose and fell to exert the perfect amount of emotion in the song, the way her eyes hid the pain he’s sure nobody else noticed. Her voice sent shivers through him and she looked celestial - like she was too good for this Earth.

When she met his gaze after she finished, it induced a vision and when Bellamy finally landed back in his own body, his head was spinning. He thinks he muttered something about having a headache but honestly, he can’t be sure. All he knew was that he needed to get out - he needed air.

He thinks it must be twenty minutes before he gets himself together enough tor return back inside. He has a smoke, calms himself as much as possible and then braves the crowd.

As he’s rounding the bar, Miller cheers at his arrival but the rest of the group are lost in conversation, barely even noticing he was gone. The guitar is leaned beside Clarke’s chair now, forgotten and silent.

‘You okay?’ Clarke bumps his elbow with hers when he sits back down.

‘Yeah’ he stutters, finding himself feeling unconfident in talking to her for the first time. Guess she noticed he was gone, too.

‘How’s your head?’

‘What?’ Bellamy looks at her, his heart stopping because…does she know?

‘You said you had a headache?’ Clarke says like it’s obvious and Bellamy lets out a breath of relief.

‘Oh yeah’ he remembers. ‘No, I’m fine.’

Clarke doesn’t look like she believes him, but Murphy calls her for her input on something with Monty and she’s thankfully drawn into that conversation before she can ask Bellamy anything else.

He takes a long drink of his water, wondering what the hell he’s going to do about this. It’s nothing like he’s ever experienced - he half considered that maybe they were future predictions, which even that sounds insane. Except in these dreams, Clarke and he aren’t much older than they are now. A couple of years at most.

Their house is beautifully furnished and they have a freaking piano there apparently - there’s no way in hell Bellamy could afford anything like the place they were living in and he knows he’d never just live off of Clarke’s money if she has any or makes any in the future. She wouldn’t make enough to afford that standard of living in her first year of being a doctor anyway. Definitely not future predictions.

Bellamy blows out a breath, closing his eyes and letting the stress of what’s happening consume him for a moment.

Is he sick? Does he have something wrong with his brain or something growing in there?

When he opens his eyes, he lands on Jackson who is laughing at something Harper said.

Right - if this happens again, he’s going to talk to Jackson - he must know something about this, or else he’d know what to do.

‘You okay, man?’ Miller asks as he takes a drink from his beer bottle.

‘Fine’ Bellamy lies. ‘All good.’

 

-

 

Clarke is depositing some empty glasses into the dishwasher behind the bar - which is apparently something she does now.

It’s busy like it always is when The Delinquents are up on stage and as their music blasts around Northern Lights, Bellamy is run off his feet serving his customers. Harper and Murphy are at the other end, juggling several drink orders at once.

Saturday night is when they draw in the most money, which is badly needed to keep the bar afloat, so Bellamy tries hard not to curse the constant drink orders and the sound of guitars filling his place.

It’s warm when it’s this crowded and the lights are dimmed except for the ones over the stage, making Monty, Miller and Jasper the spectacle. They’re playing some song by Ed Sheeran that Bellamy has heard a thousand times but he’s tuning it out, trying to focus on hearing a drink order from some guy over the bar.

‘Can I do anything?’ Clarke shouts over the music to Bellamy as he’s popping a bottle cap. Bellamy goes about answering her but instead it just comes out as a sound of uncertainty because his head is all over the place. They’re packed, they can’t let anymore people in here tonight. He ends up getting swept into another order before he can think straight, going into autopilot.

‘What can I get you?’ He hears Clarke say as he’s putting cash in the register from his recent transaction. Spinning around, Bellamy watches Clarke take a drink order from two girls. A smirk forms on his face - that’s one way to take initiative.

As he serves another customer, he constantly glances at her to make sure she’s okay. She’s hesitant, pausing as she searches the fridges for their selected drink and goes even slower when pouring it, making sure she’s getting it right. Bellamy has served two more people by the time Clarke has put the money in the till and moved on to somebody else, but damn, even by doing that much is taking the weight off. She has no experience in bar work but she’s helping without being asked - she is not who he originally thought she was at all.

 

-

 

‘I really mean it Princess, thank you’ Bellamy says to Clarke as he wipes down the bar. ‘For last night.’

He had tried to give her money when they closed but she just pushed it back at him and told him it was a favour. She was pretty adamant on not accepting it.

‘Oh, don’t worry about it’ she smiles, twirling the bottle in her hand around the coaster. The last customer left half an hour ago and Harper, Murphy and Bellamy are just finishing up cleaning duty before they call it a night. Sunday’s aren’t that busy, but they are always looking forward to their Monday night wind down by the time it rolls around.

‘You didn’t have to do it’ Bellamy tells her, meaning it sincerely. Clarke had taken so much pressure off last night by just serving a few customers and helping with clean up. She didn’t even have to be shown what to do and despite being a little slow to get used to it, she was a natural at bartending.

‘You guys were swamped, wasn’t exactly going to sit back and watch you struggle’ she smirks, shrugging one shoulder as she finishes her beer. The bar is quiet, save for the sound of Murphy placing the chairs on top of the tables to make room for Harper’s mop which she swishes around the floor.

‘You could have’ Bellamy starts drying the glasses on the draining board.

‘What kind of friend would I be?’ Clarke hops down off the stool, tossing her beer bottle into the recycling bin behind the bar. Bellamy pauses at this, watching her with interest. He’s glad to hear she considers them friends now - that’s certainly something he thought they’d never be when she first sat on his barstool. Murphy claps him on the back as he walks out the door behind the bar and into his hallway, probably to get the accounts book.

‘That’s true’ Bellamy half smiles as Clarke grabs another towel to dry the glasses with him. ‘So, anything from our favourite Backstreet Boy lately?’ Bellamy’s not sure why he’s so concerned if Finn has contacted her or not - that guy just radiates bad energy and he doesn’t want Clarke being around it. He feels like he’s asked her this question a million times but to her credit, Clarke just smirks - rolling her eyes at his nickname for Finn and blows out a deep breath before she answers.

‘Nope. Nothing - probably gave up and is off with his new Wonder Woman.’

Something about the way she says it makes Bellamy’s chest pinch a bit, something akin to sympathy.

‘He cheated, huh?’ He’s already heard her say it before to Finn but he asks anyway. If they’re friends now, then he can at least pry a little. He catches Harper’s eye at that moment who merely raises one brow, giving Bellamy a look he can’t read. She flicks back to the floor, mopping around by the stage now and out around back as if purposely trying to give them some privacy.

‘Yeah, caught him on my way home from class on the side of the street like he had nothing to be ashamed of. Not that I blame him, you should have seen this girl, Bellamy. Might as well have been Gal Gadot’ she sighs, twirling the towel inside of a pint glass.

‘It’s no reason to cheat’ Bellamy creases his brow, wondering how the hell any guy would throw away a girl like Clarke.

‘Guess not’ Clarke shrugs, placing the glass back on the shelf before grabbing another. Bellamy can’t help but gaze at her, wondering how she manages to stay so strong all the time. He imagines a lot of it is distraction, being here.

‘It’s hard to deal with life when it throws you curveballs like that’ he tells her. ‘Especially when you can’t do anything to change it.’

She nods, a look of sad acceptance of this fact on her face. He wishes she didn’t have to go through this - he’s been through heartbreak himself, he wouldn’t wish it on anyone. The guy may have been a dick, but she loved him for whatever reason.

‘You know what I learned to do in those shit situations?’ Bellamy tosses his towel aside, leaning against the bar with one hand as he looks at her. Clarke meets his eye, shrugging one shoulder as she smiles in anticipation for his advice - like he’s going to tell her some big secret as to how to get over heartbreak or how to rise above difficult circumstances.

Instead, Bellamy lifts his free hand and gives Clarke two fingers as if he’s saying ‘fuck you’. Her blonde hair falls back with her head as she laughs at this, the pink bits at the end barely grazing her shoulder blades. The sound of her laughing does something to Bellamy, making him feel almost proud that he could exert this reaction out of her.

‘Really? That simple?’ She meets his gaze again, her face shining because that’s what happens when she laughs.

‘That simple’ Bellamy nods in certainty. He goes back to drying the glasses as Clarke giggles.

‘I’m going to use that’ she tells him, picking up another glass to dry it. ‘I like it.’

‘It works, too’ Bellamy admits. ‘Helps you care less. Fuck it.’

‘Fuck it’ Clarke agrees, still holding the smile across her face. ‘Fuck Finn. Fuck Gal Gadot. Fuck everything.’

Bellamy chuckles, glancing at her again as he pops another glass down. She looks good like this - carefree, like she isn’t carrying the weight of the world anymore. He’s reminded yet again of how wrong he was about this girl.

‘The night I collected you from the party’ Bellamy finds himself prying further. ‘You said you didn’t have any friends?’

‘Nope’ Clarke says, her tone of resignation making him feel worse for her.

‘Why?’

‘Lost contact with high school friends when I met Finn - they moved away and I was busy with him so, you know how it is’ she shrugs. ‘Didn’t try hard enough to make any in University because, well, I had Finn. Pretty stupid, huh?’

‘No - it happens. You make someone your world and eventually they’re all that exist in it.’

‘That sounds like it’s coming from experience’ Clarke wonders, quirking an eyebrow as she watches her towel circle the glass in her hand. It is - Bellamy did it with his sister and his mother for far too long.

‘You should come tomorrow night’ Bellamy hears himself offer the invitation to spend Monday night with them again. ‘Everyone really liked you the other night and besides, you haven’t met Jasper, Maya or Emori yet.’

‘Okay’ she says, looking up at him almost shyly. ‘Sounds like fun.’

‘Even if it’s not, fuck it’ Bellamy finishes his last glass on the draining board before straightening himself, watching Clarke as the corners of her lips tug up into an endearing smile.

‘Fuck it' she beams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	7. Baby, We Can Leave This Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Underwater' by Cody Simpson.

Bellamy wasn’t wrong.

Monday nights in Northern Lights, even though only occupied by Bellamy and his close friends, are absolutely epic. The front door is locked and the only lights present are colourful - blasting around the place in zaps like lasers. She didn’t even know they had those installed. If Clarke didn’t know any better, she’d think it wasn’t the same bar. It looks more like a nightclub now than anything else.

The tables that normally dot the floor for resident drinkers and fans of the Delinquents on Saturday nights are pushed back to create a space for dancing, which Harper and Maya seem to take full advantage of. Harper’s long, sandy blonde hair is bouncing as she twirls and Maya is laughing as she wiggles her hips to some dance song that Monty is blasting from the speakers.

Considering he plays guitar and loves his slow songs that he strums out on Saturday nights, he’s twice as skilled as a DJ and has great taste in current music. Jasper is up there with him at the moment, pointing at the laptop screen and bickering with Monty - probably about making the mixing flow better or whatever.

Jasper and Maya are lovely, taking to Clarke from the second she came through the door at 8pm. Jasper threw an arm around her neck, telling her she just has to try this drink he came up with last Monday night. Bellamy shook his head sharply over Jasper’s shoulder, silently telling Clarke not to dare drink it which only made her laugh.

Clarke is currently sitting at the bar sipping her vodka, trying to get used to the difference of not having people pushing in beside her to order drinks like they do on Saturday’s. Most of all, she’s not used to having Bellamy’s undivided attention in the bar because there’s no customers to serve. She’s caught rare moments of time with him during clean up but other than that, he’s normally pulled tight from different directions all night.

He’s still behind the bar though, always finding something to do and being nice enough to pour beer and shots out for everyone when they call. She notices again that he’s not drinking. A barman who never touches a drop of alcohol? It makes her curious. As he wipes down the bar top near Clarke, he takes a gulp from a bottle of soda and laughs at Miller across the room who is trying to request a song from Monty. Jackson is working a shift tonight apparently but it doesn’t stop Miller from enjoying his Monday night.

They are all definitely on their way to drunk and while Clarke still feels she needs a little more liquid courage before venturing out to the dance floor with the girls, she’s surprisingly at home here. Everyone, despite barely knowing these people, have made her feel more welcomed than anyone ever has. For the first time in a long time, she’s not carrying an ache in her heart over Finn and she’s leaning more on the ‘I’m better off this way’ side of things. She’s definitely taking Bellamy’s ‘two fingers to shit in life’ very seriously and so, Clarke accepts Emori’s order of shots and downs three in a row, wincing after each one.

‘Fuck, that stuff is awful’ Clarke sticks out her tongue as a shiver runs through her.

She’s never been much of a girl for raw alcohol and whiskey shots certainly fall under that category. Murphy laughs loudly from his stool beside Emori, taking a sip from his own beer as he shakes his head. He looks so at ease when he’s not working behind the bar, his arm resting fondly around Emori’s waist.

‘Does the job of getting you buzzed, though’ Emori shouts back over the loud music. Clarke can’t believe they do this most Monday’s - it’s one way to unwind.

‘Don’t be dissing my good booze, Princess’ Bellamy yells over the music from behind the bar and Clarke smirks, barely catching the glint in his eye through the muted darkness of the bar. The light display shows his face in bursts and Clarke finds herself noticing the little things, like the way the corners of his lips twitch up when he’s trying not to smile or the way the sides of his eyes crinkle when he actually does. They’ve definitely come a long way since the first week sitting in Northern Lights with him.

‘Let’s dance!’ Emori exclaims, grabbing Clarke’s arm and forcing her from her stool. She’s just about to object but when she glances back over her shoulder at Bellamy, he holds up two fingers as if to tell her ‘fuck it’. So, she laughs and goes with ease after Emori onto the practically empty dance floor.

Maya and Harper cheer when they see them coming, whooping and wolf-whistling as the two of them join in. Clarke, luckily, has a few moves and wastes no time in throwing her hands up and twisting her body seductively as she dances.

‘Damn, Clarke’ Harper shouts, clapping her hands and grinning from ear to ear. Clarke laughs, enjoying the confidence that the shots have given her. She’s only wearing a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt, but it still shows off her curves and dips enough in the front to display her cleavage. She’s not trying to impress anyone but she feels good, that’s the only thing that matters.

Monty switches the song to one of Clarke’s favourites right now and she lets out a cheer, loud enough for Bellamy’s head to snap up and laugh at them fondly from his position behind the bar. Clarke mainly loves this song because it reminds her of her breakup and it makes her feel positive and empowered. She’s been blasting it through her apartment every morning for the last week.

Kygo definitely has a talent for making music you can dance to but the lyrics of ‘Happy Now’ resonate with Clarke deeply. When the chorus hits, she looks over at Bellamy as she sings the words at the top of her lungs. He’s watching her with amusement, shaking his head and his curls along with it as he dries the inside of a glass.

‘I just want you to know that, you and me it was good but it wasn’t right’ she bellows, hoping that he knows she’s singing about Finn. By the smirk on his face, he definitely knows. ‘And it’ll be hard but I know I will make it out. Step by step, I’ll move on and get on with life’ she jumps up and down and Bellamy’s smirk grows. ‘So I’ll let go and I hope you’ll be happy now’ Clarke sings, but at the end of that line, she sticks her two fingers up in the air as if she’s saying ‘fuck you’ to Finn.

Bellamy throws his head back laughing at her sass and Clarke laughs too, loving that he gets it. The way Clarke is interpreting the lyrics is less genuine than the singer means them and it’s definitely more of a sarcastic ‘enjoy life without me’ remark than an ‘I wish you well’. When his eyes meet hers again, Bellamy is still laughing but he’s nodding as if proud that she’s using his ‘fuck you to life’ gesture and Clarke loses herself in the beat of the verse after that.

Honestly, in this moment, Clarke feels infinite. She’s dancing, her song is playing and she feels euphoric thanks to the aid of the alcohol. The people in this bar are the closest thing she’s had to real friends in a very long time and she’s grown incredibly fond of every single one of them. Nothing could quench her mood in this moment.

After a long bout of dancing, Murphy orders in a couple of pizza’s and the group devours them at the bar when they arrive.

‘Where’s Bellamy?’ Clarke wonders as the lights come on a little, bringing the bar back looking like its normal self.

‘Smoking, probably’ Miller shrugs, catching a runaway string of cheese from his slice.

Clarke misses his company, even though she gets on well with the group. She goes out through the back of the bar to search for him, finding him on the small balcony at the top of the stairs. It’s a small window, a bare opening before his apartment door and Clarke slips out through it to find him leaning against the railing.

‘Hey’ she smiles, coming to join him.

‘Hey’ he returns the grin, offering her one of his cigarettes in the same movement. Arkadia’s buildings lie out before them and it looks so different from way up here. The night sky should be making the city dark but instead, it appears magical. There’s a few stars dotted in the inky sky above and the lights in the buildings mixed with the neon signs of advertising billboards give Clarke a New York City vibe rather than an Arkadian one.

‘Got bored of everyone?’ Clarke wonders as she lights up the cigarette, inhaling a puff of smoke into her lungs as she does so.

‘Nah’ Bellamy shrugs with one shoulder. ‘Just needed a break from the music.’

A car horn sounds in the distance but other than that, it seems peaceful up here. Clarke can see the appeal.

‘I love this city’ Clarke announces out of the blue as she stares out at the buildings, causing Bellamy’s brown eyes to flick to her. ‘It’s why I went to Polis instead of somewhere else. Think I’d miss it too much if I left.’

'You'd miss your parents?'

'I'm not that close with my mom' Clarke bites her lip. 'And my dad died a few years ago, so...' she shrugs one shoulder, trying hard not to let the emotion rise to the surface.

'I'm so sorry' Bellamy says softly and well, Clarke never has been good at receiving the sympathy that comes after the revelation of her father dying so she brushes it off. She can't meet his gaze, doesn't want to recognise the pity in his eyes.

'So yeah, I'd just miss Arkadia.'

Bellamy must consider this for a second before replying, studying her with such an intensity that it makes Clarke blush. She can see it from her peripheral vision and for the second time, she has to force her eyes to stay watching the city lights. This man - it's like he can touch her soul with a simple look and it scares her. She can't go down that road again.

‘I love it here too’ he agrees, his voice low and rough to the point that it sets Clarke’s skin on fire. She appreciates him not asking further about her father - it's still hard to talk about him. ‘I didn’t realise how much until I was posted overseas.’

‘What made you want to serve?’ Clarke takes another drag, hoping that her own voice sounds even when she asked the question. There’s so many parts of Bellamy that she wants to know and the thought is a little alarming, so she pushes it out of her head. He sighs and glances back out over the city, almost like he’s trying to figure out where to begin.

‘My mom - she battled with depression for most of her life’ he says softly and now Clarke looks at him, taking her turn to express sympathy. There's a pain in his eyes that makes Clarke want to reach for him. ‘It was tough - she couldn’t work because of it. There were a few brief moments where she’d feel good and honestly, that’s what I held onto. It just wasn’t enough to pay the bills.’

Clarke’s eyes dip, crinkling in sympathy for him. She can’t even begin to imagine what that was like - her life had been so different to that growing up. She never had to want for anything - maybe Bellamy is onto something by calling her ‘Princess.’ She may have lost her father but before that, life had been good.

‘Couldn’t afford college so I enlisted to provide for them - but my sister, she…’ he trails off and has to take a breath before continuing. ‘She didn’t understand, didn’t get why I’d just leave her like that. I practically raised her so I can see why she felt abandoned, but I had to, you know?’

Clarke nods but words are lost in her - fuck, how could she not know this about Bellamy? It makes complete sense why he doesn’t want students in his bar now - its a bitter reminder of everything he couldn’t have.

‘I sent money home constantly - enough to pay what needed to be paid and enough to save for Octavia to go to college. What I didn’t know was that mom was sick’ he breathes, biting his bottom lip as if to hold back the emotion. ‘She made O swear not to tell me in her letters and I didn’t find out until it was time for her to go’ he huffs out a breath, something akin to a laugh as if he’s still in disbelief that it happened. ‘Didn’t make it home in time to say goodbye.’

‘Bellamy…’ Clarke swallows the lump in her throat, watching the man in front of her. His dark curls cover his eyes as he looks out onto the city but she’s sure he’s holding back the tears himself.

‘Octavia, she never forgave me for leaving. Seeing mom struggle as she grew up on top of having to look after her because of a different illness in the end, it was too much. Too much for a girl of just seventeen to handle. She never spent a penny of her college fund, threw it back at me saying that my money wasn’t what she needed. She needed me - needed her brother.’

Clarke frowns, annoyed at how his sister could be so selfish in light of Bellamy’s sacrifice. She may have a side to this that might be obviously rational to someone else, but Clarke is on Bellamy’s side here and she sees his pain seeping out of every pore of his. This wasn’t fair on him, either.

‘My sister, my responsibility’ he mumbles, closing his eyes in anguish.

‘You were trying to provide for her, Bellamy. And you didn’t know your mom was sick.’

‘I knew she wasn’t capable of caring for Octavia the way she needed’ he looks at Clarke now, anger in his tone but it’s not at her - it’s at himself. ‘I knew that and I left anyway. And you know the biggest kicker of it all?’ He shakes his head. ‘I think part of me, subconsciously, wanted to leave. I wanted away from that house and that weight on my shoulders constantly. I wanted to feel like I was doing something without having to do that part of it.’ Bellamy scrubs his hair back with his hand, scoffing as he lets out a shaky breath. ‘Pretty pathetic, huh?’

‘No’ Clarke says with conviction, flicking her cigarette away. ‘Not pathetic at all. You were young too with no support - you did the best you could and you clearly love your sister more than anything.’

‘She doesn’t love me’ he admits painfully, tossing his own cigarette over the balcony and watches it fall to the street below. ‘Hasn’t spoken to me in two years.’

‘Yes she does. She just needs some time’ Clarke assumes. ‘She’ll come round and see how special you are.’

Bellamy snaps his gaze to hers, searching her eyes as if she might be lying. It was an intense thing to say to someone she doesn’t know very well yet but she stands by her statement. She may have not been able to open up about her father tonight but she appreciates Bellamy opening up about his past - maybe he feels the same connection with her like she does with him. She's glad he spoke about it because he needs someone to lift that burden, to share the load of grief and Clarke of all people is used to that emotion.

She doesn’t hesitate in closing the space between them, enveloping him in a hug which he reciprocates immediately. Clarke’s heart thuds against her ribcage and Bellamy seems to have some strange ability to make goosebumps rise on her skin. Clarke, again, pushes away what it might mean, she’s not even considering the possibilities.

Instead, she focuses on hugging him and tells herself that it’s because he needed one - needed to be held by someone who cares about him because fuck, he just spilled an intense story to her and it’s clearly reopened an old wound that hasn’t healed.

He squeezes her tight and tucks his chin into her shoulder, staying like that for what seems like forever. It’s why it startles her so much when Bellamy yanks himself away, gripping his head like he’s just gotten hit by something.

‘What’s wrong?’ Clarke’s brow furrows in concern, following him as he backs into the railing behind him. ‘Bellamy?’

‘Nothing’ he stammers out after a moment. ‘Nothing, I’m fine.’ When he sees that Clarke doesn’t buy that for one second, he continues. ‘Just been getting these headaches.’

‘Maybe you should go to the doctor?’ Clarke worries, putting her hand out for his arm but he retreats, making for the window that leads back into the bar.

‘Yeah, yeah I might just do that’ he nods as he goes. ‘Gotta get back downstairs. They’ll be wondering where we are.’

With that, he’s gone and she hears his footsteps pounding off of the wooden staircase that leads back down to everyone else. Clarke bites her bottom lip, stuck to the balcony floor as she tries to catch up with what just happened.

Things had gone from normal to intense in a matter of seconds, like every moment of her life with Bellamy Blake so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	8. We Are Timeless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Timeless' by Landon Austin.

‘Thanks for doing this, Jackson’ Bellamy pushes his hands into his pockets, walking down the narrow corridors of Arkadia Memorial Hospital.

The lights above him are too bright, too familiar of the numerous nights he spent in here. His mom had been admitted a few times when her depression became so bad that she did something to herself, not to mention a couple of nights he brought Octavia in here without his mother to stand as guardian.

Once, Octavia had fallen when she was seven and his mother was locked in her room - ignoring the sound of her cries because it was one of those days where she couldn’t see past herself. It wasn’t her fault but Bellamy had to swallow his rage anyway when he came home from the grocery store and found Octavia in hysterics over the bone sticking out of her leg. She had just been trying to reach a box of cereal on the top shelf and like always, Bellamy was left to make a decision on what to do.

He was twelve when he brought her into the emergency room that time.

He was only fifteen when he carried a ten year old Octavia through the emergency doors, begging the doctors to help her because she couldn’t breathe. Apparently, panic attacks weren’t something that could be _cured_ with western medicine, just managed - especially when they were caused by circumstance and trauma at home. It had shed light on them, attracted brief, unwanted attention from social workers - so that was the last time Bellamy did that. He had to teach her how to handle those by himself, like everything else.

Being here for himself, though - now that was unprecedented.

‘Well, Dr. Kane is the best in the business. You’ll get some answers today if nothing else’ Jackson replies, his white coat odd looking to Bellamy’s eye after seeing him always dress so casual at his bar.

‘I appreciate it. Was it difficult to get me in on such short notice?’

‘Not when you have connections’ Jackson smirks.

Bellamy really owed him for this. He had called Jackson just two days ago, briefly explaining his concerns and definitely leaving out the fact that he was having visions…dreams…whatever they were. He would have advised him to attend a psychologist instead of a neurologist.

‘I know I’m asked already, but you’re good with keeping this from Miller?’

‘Well, I’m not good with keeping anything from Miller - but this is doctor-patient confidentiality. I kind of have no choice’ Jackson says as they turn the corner down to the neurology department. ‘But my advice? You need support when dealing with worry and stress. It might be a good idea if you told him - he is your best friend after all.’

‘No’ Bellamy shakes his head, his curls tossing with it. ‘Not worrying anyone until I have to. This might be nothing…right?’

‘Right’ Jackson agrees, although he doesn’t sound so sure. Bellamy knows that sudden, recurring headaches and visions aren’t really a good sign - and he hasn’t even told Jackson about the visions yet.

‘Who’s covering the bar for you?’

‘Murphy’ Bellamy wipes the sweat from the palms of his hands onto his jeans, keeping in step with Jackson as they grow closer to neurology. Murphy had been an easy choice - he wouldn’t ask too many questions about why Bellamy needed a Thursday off work and he always wanted the extra shifts.

‘Must have killed you to take the day off’ Jackson jokes.

‘The bills won’t pay themselves’ Bellamy tries to joke back but it falls flat, encouraging a look of sympathy from Jackson. They don’t draw in enough customers on Wednesday’s and Thursday’s so it just means less money at the end of those nights. He can’t really afford to be taking those days off.

‘Well, I got this covered today.’

‘What?’ Bellamy snaps his gaze to Miller’s boyfriend. ‘No, no. Thank you but no. I don’t take charity.’

‘Bellamy’ Jackson stops him in his tracks, his hand holding his forearm. ‘Scans alone add up, not to mention bloods and whatever else Dr. Kane will decide on. Come on, just call it payback for all the free drink you’ve dished out to me.’

Bellamy holds his stare, exasperating before nodding in agreement. There’s no way Jackson racked up that much on his bar tab but Bellamy can’t really afford to be too proud here. This was something completely unexpected and he doesn’t have insurance.

‘Thank you’ he resigns and Jackson smiles before nodding at a chair behind him. He hands Bellamy a clipboard to update his medical history - which isn’t a lot except for some treatments he received when he got injured overseas.

‘Take a seat, fill those out and I’ll go get Dr. Kane.’

Bellamy collapses against the hard hospital chair and gets to work filling in the forms, listening to the noise of announcements and calls for certain doctors come over the intercoms. He hates everything about this place - the smell, the noise, the memories. Why the hell would Clarke want to work here?

 _Clarke_.

God, he needs to figure out what these things are. He needs to know why every time he’s having the visions, she’s the focal point of them.

He re-runs the last one in his mind, the one that encouraged him to go to Jackson in the first place. Clarke had hugged him Monday night, after he told her about his family on the balcony. He had nuzzled his nose against her hair, glad of the comfort when the vision hit him like a freight train.

 

_Clarke is against his chest, her naked skin warm against his own. He’s nuzzling her neck, pressing soft kisses against the spot he knows makes her tingle._

_‘Bell’ she giggles as she pulls away, her blonde hair falling like a halo around her pillow. ‘I think we’ve spent enough time in bed.’_

_He can’t help the huge grin that comes onto his face as he leans back, taking in the sight of her._

_Jesus, how is she his?_

_Her beautiful, blue eyes are clear as crystals and the diamond necklace around her neck catches the morning suns rays through their window. He lifts his hand, tracing a line down her face with his fingers._

_‘Never enough time with you’ he whispers and the soft smile he earns from that is enough to make his heart blow up._

_Fuck, he loves her so much._

_Leaning in, he kisses her properly and relishes in how easily her lips slot against his._

_‘Come on, lazy’ she mumbles against his lips. ‘I’ll make you pancakes?’_

_‘Blueberry?’ He raises his eyebrow, his lips still pressed against hers. He can feel her smile through their kiss and it’s one of his favourite things ever._

_‘Deal’ she pulls back but comes back in for a final kiss. ‘Two more minutes of cuddles, though.’_

_‘Now look who’s lazy’ he teases, pulling her against his chest once more._

 

Bellamy blinks hard, trying to push the memory away again.

The sounds of the hospital come back to him and he tightens his fingers around the clipboard, trying to make sense of it. In the visions or dreams or whatever the hell they are, he never has enough sense of self to explore or think further - he can’t decipher the era of time, his circumstances, how the hell he has Clarke, if Octavia is in his life, if his mother is still alive - nothing.

It’s like he’s got a front row seat to a film starring himself and Clarke and he can do nothing to change the plot or can’t ask questions as to what’s happening. He can merely stay there, frozen, feeling the Clarke Griffin’s lips press to his own and yearn for it to be real. Maybe that’s the concerning part.

‘Bellamy Blake?’

Bellamy snaps himself out of his thoughts, lifting his head quickly to see a middle aged woman standing in front of him. She has long, brown hair tied into a braid and some files in her hand. Her eyes are blue and remind him of Clarke’s in a way.

‘Yeah’ he manages to get out, rising to greet her.

‘I’m Dr. Abigail Kane’ she extends her hand and when Bellamy takes it, her shake is warm and steady. ‘Why don’t you come with me?’

 

-

 

Dr. Kane’s office is like any surgeon’s office, neat and clean with books on their chosen medical field lining the shelves. The blinds are open, shining the day’s light around the place.

She sits behind her desk with Bellamy on a seat in front of her, going over some background notes and humming to herself, especially when Bellamy notices she’s focusing particularly hard on his family background. He’s not an idiot to think that his mother’s history isn’t in there, along with Octavia’s and the fact that he was the sole carer for both of them - his young age for that is surely noted in there as well.

She compares her own file to his new forms, studying them intently. When she finally looks up, her eyes are kind and full of sympathy - yeah, she’s definitely seen his family background.

‘Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on? Jackson told me you’re experiencing intense headaches?’ Dr. Kane encourages, picking up her pen so she can write his answers down.

Okay - so he hasn’t been totally honest with Jackson but he needed his symptoms to be severe enough to warrant a meeting with a brain doctor. Bellamy takes a breath, tries to steady his anxiety of being in a goddamn hospital and takes a shot at explaining his concerns in as normal manner as possible.

‘Well, they’re not really intense. Just quick and minor, almost like a flash of pain’ he starts pathetically.

‘How often?’ She writes this down, scribbling notes onto his file.

‘Not very often’ he says, sure that his symptoms are sounding more and more like something he could have just taken a painkiller for. Dr. Kane places her pen back down and folds her arms across the table, her expression still holding kindness there.

‘I know you didn’t ask Jackson to arrange a meeting with a neurologist over some minor headaches’ she gives him a smile so that he knows she’s not being mean about it. ‘There’s more worrying you, Mr. Blake. And now is the time to be honest.’

He sighs, blowing out whatever air is left in his lungs.

‘I didn’t tell Jackson, but with the headaches come these…these visions. Or dreams - I don’t really know what the hell they are.’

Bellamy shifts under Dr. Kane’s gaze, her brow pinching a little in the centre as her confusion grows.

‘Do you black out?’

‘I don’t know - I guess? I lose touch with the present moment, if that’s what you’re asking.’

‘And when you come back around, have you fallen?’

‘No, I’m still in the same position as I was in before going into the dream.’

Dr. Kane scrawls this down and looks back at him, tucking a strand of hair that’s fallen loose from her braid behind her ear. Judging by the amount of awards plastered behind her on the wall, Bellamy hopes she’s as good as her certificates state.

‘What causes them?’ When Bellamy takes a second to answer, she elaborates because she thinks his pause is from not understanding the question rather than not wanting to admit the bizarre answer that is the truth. ‘As in, what are you doing when they happen?’

‘Nothing in particular. Different things.’

‘And what do you dream about?’

Bellamy pauses again and this time, Dr. Kane knows he’s holding something back from her. She looks at him intensely, waiting for his answer that she knows he’s struggling to lie about. He should be honest with her but he’s so afraid of coming off as insane, as someone less in need of a neurologist and more in need of a psych ward. How do you tell your doctor that you’re having waking dreams of some girl you barely know?

‘Different things’ he shrugs, trying to come off casual but failing miserably.

‘Mmhmm’ she doesn’t change her facial expression. ‘Are you depressed?’

‘No’ Bellamy almost snaps his answer out. It’s in his file about his mother’s depression - it’s something he’d recognise the signs of in a heartbeat, he wouldn’t have had to come in here today if he was experiencing depression.

‘Okay’ Dr. Kane says calmly. ‘Anything else accompany these episodes?’  _Great, she’s calling them episodes now_. ‘Dizziness? Shortness of breath? Changes in behaviour? Confusion?’

Confusion - she can say that again. He’s had shortness of breath but that was a panic attack, he knows that - has had enough of them to recognise one by now, has helped Octavia through enough of them. He shakes his head in response.

‘Hearing voices?’ She adds.

‘Thank you for your time’ Bellamy pushes himself up from his chair. He will not be labeled as crazy - even if he’s afraid he is himself. Dr. Kane stands with him.

‘Mr. Blake, I meant no insult by that’ she states. Bellamy has half turned towards the door, anger building up inside his chest because she thinks he’s just in here wasting her time. ‘These are questions I have to ask to understand what’s happening. Diseases like schizophrenia often present themselves with hallucinations, if…’

‘I do not have schizophrenia’ Bellamy almost shouts. ‘And they are not hallucinations. They’re not happening in the here and now.’

‘When are they happening?’ Dr. Kane asks softly and Bellamy closes his eyes. His hand is leaning on the back of his chair, his feet separated in an effort to ground himself more.

‘I don’t know. Just not now.’

‘Okay - well I have to rule out everything’ Dr. Kane gestures for him to sit back down.

‘I’m not crazy’ he shakes his head, adamant on having decided this. The doctor smiles once more, gesturing again towards his chair.

‘I never said you were. I’m not here to judge you, Mr. Blake. I’m here to help you.’

With that, Bellamy holds her stare for a moment in order to consider how genuine she is. When he’s satisfied that she’s being sincere, he reluctantly returns to his seat.

‘I think maybe the best course of action before we go any further is to get you in for an MRI and rule out any physical problems first.’

‘Like a tumour’ he states more than wonders. Dr. Kane purses her lips together.

‘Let’s just see what comes up.’

She organises it pretty quickly and Bellamy wonders if it’s out of concern because whatever she thinks he could have is urgent and needs treatment or if it’s out of her being able to pull whatever strings she wants in this hospital because she practically owns the department, if Jackson’s ramblings about how brilliant she is is anything to go by.

The MRI is loud, uncomfortable and takes too long for Bellamy’s liking. He just wants this over with - wants a solid answer before he returns home this evening.

Before he knows it, he’s back in her office, biting his fingernail and wishing it was a cigarette to calm his nerves. When Dr. Kane comes back in, she’s holding a large stack of documents with his file on top of it. She settles herself and flicks open the first page of his notes.

‘Mr. Blake…’ she begins.

‘Bellamy’ he corrects her. If they’re talking about something this personal, she may as well call him by his first name.

‘Bellamy’ she smiles in that professional manner which all doctors seem to do before delivering a diagnosis. ‘Your MRI came up clear.’

He doesn’t know whether to be relieved that she found nothing or disappointed because it means something else is wrong. At least if it were a tumour, he would have a reason for dreaming about Clarke like that.

‘You have a long list here of what could be causing these episodes. Stress of owning your own business, PTSD from serving overseas, the death of your mother’ she pauses, as if trying to sense if it would be overstepping before she mentions her next bullet point. ‘The difficult childhood you experienced.’ Bellamy nods for her to go on, holding his breath in his nose. ‘You could be experiencing high blood pressure, dehydration - the list goes on.’

‘But you don’t think it’s any of that’ Bellamy squints his eyes, reading the doctor all too well.

‘No, I do not’ she takes a breath after this, meeting his stare dead on. ‘Bellamy, do you believe in fate?’

‘What?’ Bellamy furrows his brow. What the hell does that have to do with anything?

‘When you dream, you’re seeing this life with another person, right?’

This floors Bellamy - how the hell does she know this? All he can do is nod, his mouth wide open and the shock blasted all over his face.

‘And it’s always the same person?’

‘Yeah’ Bellamy croaks out but he’s hoarse. ‘This girl.’

‘She’s in your life right now?’

‘Yeah, for the last little while anyway.’

‘And let me guess, these dreams started when you met her?’

Bellamy can’t keep up, can’t process how she would know this. He nods again, sure that the hope in his chest is going to spill over - there might be a cure for this? It’s a common thing? Dr. Kane gets up from her chair and comes around to lean at the edge of the desk, her white coat curling up around her elbows.

‘I took a gap year from study after my degree’ she begins. ‘Traveled for a bit, went everywhere I could - New Zealand, Australia, Africa, Europe’ she rattles off and Bellamy can’t help but be a little envious. He’d give his left arm to be able to afford to travel, visit places like Rome. ‘I practiced medicine everywhere I got the chance, learned new techniques and treated illnesses I’d never get a chance to treat back here. I met a tribe in Papa New Guinea, talked to them as much as I could with the language barrier and tried to understand how they treated their sick and wounded. It was there that I learned my most valuable lesson of all.’

Bellamy just watches her, hoping there’s a point to this story which at the moment, just sounds a lot like bragging. He wants an official diagnosis.

‘There are things in this world that are less about western medicine, science and the physical form and more about the soul.’

Bellamy raises his eyebrows. Now who’s crazy? Dr. Kane leans back, pulling research papers from their position on her desk and hands them to Bellamy. He only glances at them but one word stands out a mile: _reincarnation_.

‘Are you kidding me?’

‘Read them. I know it seems unbelievable but there are plenty of cases documented around the world, all of which you can find in there.’

This can’t be her official diagnosis, logically it’s impossible. Yet, it seems to be happening to him. It would be one way to explain why he keeps dreaming of another life. _No_ \- this is movie shit?

‘Dr. Kane’ he purses his lips. ‘All due respect, but…’

‘Bellamy’ she says his name with such conviction that it stops him in his tracks. ‘If this explanation doesn’t satisfy you, please come back to me and we will run more tests. But I guarantee you, this is what’s happening to you. The dreams you’re having - they’re memories, and they will get stronger and more frequent the more you fall in love with this girl.’

‘I am _not_ in love with her’ Bellamy says vehemently. He definitely has a soft spot for her but come on, love is a bit of a stretch - he doesn’t know her that well.

‘The more you fall, the more they’ll come’ Dr. Kane says simply. ‘Is she having them too?’

Bellamy pales at this - shit, he hadn’t even considered this. Clarke doesn’t seem to be acting differently with him, he’d notice if she was mirroring his behaviour and she probably would have said something - although, it’s not like he has.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Well, when she does, and she will - it means she’s falling for you too.’

‘She’s not looking to fall in love’ he states. The thought grips him though - what if she starts having them and she doesn’t want this? She doesn’t want him?

‘It’s not really a choice, Bellamy. There’s a reason you two met, a reason your souls are drawn to one another and a reason why you are getting these memories. You have lived another life together, if not multiple.’

_Multiple?_

‘Don’t fight it. Do the research and let it come. It will all work out and more importantly, you’re going to be okay’ Dr. Kane smiles at him, outstretching her hand to shake his. He takes it as he stands up, his bundle of documents in his other hand. She slips him her business card and her number is stamped on there. ‘Call me if you need anything’ she tells him and everything is a blur after that.

Leaving the hospital, getting back to the bar, locking the research papers away in his nightstand.

Multiple lives? Multiple lives with Clarke Griffin?

Well…it might be a load of crap, but the diagnosis could have been worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	9. Come Back Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Come Back Home' by Calum Scott.

Clarke needs to figure things out. If her mother finds out that she’s not attending Polis, it will attract a phone call which will then need to be followed with an explanation or a plan for something better, something Clarke doesn’t have at the moment.

Right now, she doesn’t want to go back to Medicine but what other choice does she have? There’s nothing else she can do.

Instead, she finds herself once again helping out in Northern Lights.

Murphy was on his own when she came in at opening time but given that it’s a Thursday night, she was surprised to see him here. He normally just works Friday to Tuesday, like Harper. Apparently, Bellamy had something to do today so she squashes her disappointment and chit-chat’s with Murphy as she runs around doing a few jobs. It’s easy work and maybe it’s something that she needs - something to not stress or worry about, just something to keep her mind occupied while she learns to enjoy life again.

Clarke is just finishing off the last crate, placing the bottles neatly into the fridge behind the bar when Bellamy comes out of the door behind the bar. He had obviously come home through the alleyway door and he startles Clarke with his sudden appearance.

‘Oh, hey!’ She beams, happy to see him. Even though she practically sees him every day now, she missed him in that short space of time. He’s still wearing his black jacket and he looks tired, exhausted actually. ‘I was just helping Murphy out.’

Logically, she knows there isn’t enough customers here on Wednesday’s and Thursday’s to require two people behind the bar but she’s going stir crazy at home with nothing to do or focus on. Bellamy looks shocked to see her, maybe even a little unsteady. She furrows her brow, wondering why he looks so put out by her appearance.

‘I can’t really afford to pay you for this, Clarke.’

She makes a face, popping the last bottle into the fridge before standing up to his level.

‘I know? Since when do I take cash for helping you guys out?’

‘I just feel bad’ he says, looking like he’s trying to distract himself as he wipes down the bar with a stray cloth. He doesn’t make eye contact with her at all.

‘Hey, you okay?’ She reaches out to touch him but he almost stumbles back from her, holding up his hands like he doesn’t want her to come near him.

_What the hell?_

‘What’s wrong?’ She asks.

‘Clarke’ he exasperates.

Why does he keep calling her that? _Where’s Princess and his usual mocking tone?_ She’s only ever heard him call her by her name once and that was when he heard her sing for the first time. He’d acted strange on Monday night too but by Tuesday, it was like their balcony conversation never happened. He was back to his old self and had normal conversations with her. Now this again today?

‘Bellamy?’ She steps forward but doesn’t dare try touch him again. ‘What is going on with you?’

He’s holding the bar with one hand, staring at her shoes because for some reason, _he won’t fucking look at her_. His mop of dark curls are falling over his forehead like always, obscuring his brown eyes from view. She can’t read him, can’t figure out what the hell is going on in that head of his. Sure, she doesn’t know him that well but she’s never seen him act like this.

‘Do you ever…’ he shifts uncomfortably, the noise of the bar filling his awkward silences. ‘Do you ever feel like we’ve known each other before?’

Clarke’s face contorts even further with confusion.

‘Uh, you mean like from school or something? I don’t think we even went to the same elementary, Bellamy, let alone high school.’

She’s pretty sure he would have went to school on this side of Arkadia, whereas Clarke lived about a half an hour drive across town. Also, she went to a private one - thanks to her pretentious mother - and she knew every one that attended.

‘No, I don’t mean that’ Bellamy shakes his head, huffing out a breath through his nose. He finally lifts his head and meets her stare, studies her eyes like he’s searching for something in there.

Clarke is squinting at him, still trying to figure out what’s going on because he’s acting…strange. What has he been doing all day that’s encouraged this type of behaviour?

‘Do I look familiar all of a sudden or something?’ She tries to joke but clearly, it’s the wrong thing to say because he just closes his eyes in what looks like defeat.

‘Forget it.’

‘No - no wait, come on’ she tries to reason with him but Bellamy has already rounded the bar, making for the front door. ‘Bellamy!’

The door swings shut behind him and Clarke’s heart sinks. She didn’t mean to upset him further and quite frankly, she’s a little worried about him now. He doesn’t seem in a good headspace and she half considers running out after him but maybe he just wants to be alone.

‘Where’s Bellamy? Thought I just seen him come down from upstairs?’ Murphy comes in holding a large crate of alcohol.

‘He just walked out’ Clarke gestures at the door. ‘He was acting weird.’

Murphy furrows his brow as he pops the crate down on the ground as gently as he can manage with the weight of it.

‘Really? Is he coming back? He said he’d finish up tonight, I promised Emori I’d be done by 9 at the latest.’

‘I can cover, just show me how to lock up. I’m sure he’ll be back before closing time though and I won’t have to’ Clarke offers.

‘You sure you can handle the place by yourself?’ Murphy asks as he acknowledges a nod from a customer at the end of the bar, signalling that he’d like a refill.

‘There’s like six people in here’ Clarke glances around the bar. The jukebox is playing which makes the place seem more lively, but really, it’s dead on these nights. She’s been here enough to know what closing time looks like - she’ll just pop the stools up on the table, give the place a quick sweep and wash, wipe down the bar and switch off the electrics. Anything else, Murphy can show her - but she’s expecting Bellamy back because he is never out of this damn place. Besides, she wants to be here in case he needs to talk when he’s cooled down.

‘Fair point’ Murphy fills a fresh pint of beer for Mr. Lemkin and leaves Clarke to give it to him. She looks back to the door, worry growing in her chest over Bellamy once again. She’s never seen him act like that and clearly, it’s out of character for him to leave Northern Lights, especially when he knew that Murphy couldn’t work all night.

He’s been having headaches, his sister is clearly on his mind more often than not and now he’s asking Clarke questions about whether they’ve met before - maybe he’s just super stressed. Either way, Clarke thinks about him all night and longs for him to come back through those doors.

 

-

 

The final light goes off in Northern Lights bar with the flick of a switch and just like that, Clarke has closed the place by herself. She locks the front door from the inside and pops the keys under the bar.

Normally, Bellamy is closing up so he’d lock the door behind the bar as well that leads up to his apartment, but if Clarke did that, she’d have nowhere to put the keys considering Bellamy hasn’t come home yet. The thought alone makes her heart palpitate.

He has been at this bar every day and every night since she’s known him and judging by Murphy’s concerned look when he was leaving at 9, this is very out of character for Bellamy Blake.

Where the hell is he?

She hopes beyond hope that he came home and just slipped by them through the alley door. Once she’s on top of the stairs, she checks the balcony through the window only to find it empty.

_Okay, not there._

She then knocks on his apartment door but silence greets her there too.

‘Bellamy?’ Clarke calls through the wood. ‘Are you in there?’

Nothing.

_Damn it._

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she searches for his name and hits call. She leans against the doorframe of his apartment, growing more worried with each ring left unanswered. After the fourth time he doesn’t pick up, she lets the call run into voicemail and the deep rumble of his voice finally comes through the speaker. Too bad it’s prerecorded.

_‘You’ve reached Bellamy Blake. Leave a message.’_

‘Bellamy, it’s Clarke,’ she begins, not really knowing what to say next. ‘I’m outside your apartment but uh, I guess you’re not home. I’m worried about you - the way you just took off tonight, I didn’t mean…’ she stops, annoyed that she has no idea what she’s trying to articulate here. She sighs deeply before continuing. ‘Well, I let Murphy go at 9 like you promised and I locked up. The keys are under the bar and I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.’ She considers saying more, fidgets by scraping her thumbnail against the paint on his doorframe. ‘Bye’ she says softly instead.

 _Fuck_ , he better be okay.

Her footsteps echo off of the wooden steps below her as she descends the stairs. She’s just about to reach for the door handle that will lead her out into the alleyway when the landline rings in the hall. Clarke jumps at the sudden noise, pulling the heart out of her chest. She rolls her eyes, running to reach it.

Who the hell would be calling the bar at this hour? It’s a private number and her heart jumps at the possibility that it might be Bellamy himself, for some reason.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi. Can I speak to Bellamy?’

It’s a girl, her voice young and fresh on the other end. Clarke furrows her brow, something twinging in her chest like jealousy and she doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s just curiosity as to who this girl is, calling him at stupid o’ clock.

‘He’s not here right now, can I ask who’s calling?’

‘He’s not there? Where is he?’ The girl sounds taken back.

‘I don’t know’ Clarke exasperates, irritated that she doesn’t know the answer to that question. ‘Who is this?’

The call cuts off, leaving Clarke more confused than ever. She has a million questions.

Is that where Bellamy is right now? Sleeping with someone? Does Bellamy make a habit of this? Leaving the comforts of his home to pick up girls? Is that who was calling? One of his midnight escapades?

Clarke slams the alley door behind her and takes off towards home. She tells herself that she’s just annoyed because she was there worried about him and he’s off leading a life that she has no idea about.

Who was that girl that called? Where is he right now?

Maybe he’s off doing something - something she had no idea he did. She tells herself that she’s pissed off because there’s still so much about him that she doesn’t know.

There’s a little voice inside her though that screams at her, informing her that she’s annoyed because she didn’t think he was like that - that he wasn’t the type of guy to sleep with random girls and never actually date them. Whatever, it’s none of her business - none of that should matter to her anyway because he’s just her friend. That’s all - where he puts his dick is none of her concern.

At least it shouldn’t be.

 

-

 

A sharp knock on her door alerts Clarke that she has slept in.

Straining her eyes, she squints at the clock beside her bed to reveal it’s a little after eleven - she did have a late night though, between closing up in the bar and then tossing and turning last night with worry over Bellamy.

_Bellamy._

Shooting up, she races through her hall barefoot, not really caring that she’s just in a white tank top and a pair of grey cotton shorts that have a hole in the leg. She doesn’t even check the peephole before she yanks open the door, almost breathless.

Her heart sinks when the person standing at the other side isn’t Bellamy at all - it’s a girl.

Her dark hair is tied back into a ponytail and her red leather jacket contrasts against her skin tone beautifully. Her eyes, large and pretty as they are, look a little sad as she stares at Clarke. It’s only then that the familiarity of this girl seems to dawn on her.

She’s seen her before and it doesn’t take long to realise where. Clarke’s face falls, recognising her as the girl Finn had been kissing on the street - the girl he cheated on her with. _Gal Gadot_.

Clarke goes about slamming the door in her face but the girl is ready for her, stopping it with her boot.

‘Wait’ she says, making Clarke meet her eye again. ‘Can I come in?’

‘Are you kidding me?’ Clarke stares at her incredulously. ‘You don’t think I know who you are?’

‘No, you _don’t_ ’ she replies. ‘I’m Raven - Finn’s girlfriend.’

‘Congratulations’ Clarke bites out, outraged at her audacity. She’s in a relationship with Finn now apparently, coming round to Clarke’s to rub salt in the wound? Forget it. ‘You’re welcome to him.’

‘I’ve been dating him for years’ Raven rushes out as she puts her palm against the wood of Clarke’s apartment door, stopping her once again from closing it in her face. _What?_

Clarke’s heart sinks even further, anger swelling in its place. She knew Finn was a cheating son of a bitch and she had her suspicions that he had always been dishonest with her - but to live a whole other life with another girl? How could Clarke be so stupid?

‘Hold on,’ Clarke adds it up in her head as she opens the door a little wider. That means this girl didn’t know about Clarke. She wasn’t some bitch who seduced someone’s boyfriend - she was, in fact, a victim in this whole thing as much as Clarke was. ‘He was cheating on you with _me_?’

Raven nods, her eyes glassy and Clarke takes note of the way she swallows - almost like she’s trying to contain her emotion.

‘Shit’ Clarke closes her eyes, scrubbing a hand down her face. She takes her hand off her door, letting it fall loose so that Raven can see her properly now. She takes a breath to steady herself and then steps aside. ‘Come in.’

 

-

 

When they’re settled on Clarke’s couch, cups of coffee in their hands, her and Raven start to rip apart the lies that Finn had laid out for them.

As it turns out, he grew up next door to Raven and it was ‘inevitable’, as she put it, that they would eventually start to date. He’s been with her since she was sixteen and even though she had her suspicions, she never wanted to believe that he would cheat on her.

‘I had no idea’ Clarke admits, shaking her head as she looks down to her cup.

‘I know’ Raven mumbles. ‘He had been acting differently lately - drinking more and always seemed to be in a bad mood. Whenever I’d press him about what was wrong, he’d just brush it off and say it was work stuff.’

‘Here I was thinking he cheated on _me_ ’ Clarke scoffs, feeling the burn of betrayal and disgust in her chest.

‘He did - you believed he was only with you from the very beginning. We both fell for his lies’ she says, sounding just as annoyed as Clarke does. It seems more raw for her though.

‘When did you find out?’ Clarke asks, watching the brunette take a sip of coffee.

‘Last night’ Raven huffs. ‘Although, I knew he was distant with me for a while - guess that’s why it’s not too much of a shock.’

‘Did he tell you?’

‘Not by himself. He doesn’t have that kind of honesty in him’ Raven says, her tone acidic and bitter. ‘No, I managed to get it out of him after your friend punched him at The Rig last night.’

Clarke blanches.

‘What?’

‘Your friend - that guy with the dark, curly hair?’ Raven gestures at her own hair as if it would help her description. ‘Yeah, laid Finn out. He was shouting at Finn that he’s never to come near you again, so I knew something was going on.’

‘Bellamy?’ Clarke is sitting upright now after being slouched against her couch cushions, her heart and mind racing a mile a minute. Bellamy was at The Rig last night - but what for? She’s never seen him have a drink in all the time she’s known him. Still, it makes her feel dizzy at the fact that he felt strongly enough about all of this to punch Finn. Raven shrugs, obviously not knowing his name.

‘I mean, I thought with the way he hit Finn that he was your boyfriend. Even Finn was yelling at him to just go home to you, so I just presumed he was.’

Clarke’s stomach is somersaulting and just hearing that sends tingles up her skin.

‘What made you think he wasn’t my boyfriend?’ Clarke scrunches up her nose, confused as to what could have changed Raven’s mind on the title.

‘Well, he left with some girl about ten minutes later and apparently, it wasn’t you’ Raven tells her and thankfully, she’s staring at the steam rising up from her cup because if she was looking at Clarke, she’d see how much this statement affected her.

She’d know that Clarke hearing that Bellamy went home with some girl hit her harder than any of the other news she’d received this morning. Harder than hearing about Finn having another girlfriend for the entire time that he and Clarke were together, harder than hearing that Raven had grown up with Finn and still didn’t know who the hell he was, harder than finding out that Clarke had played an accidental part in ending someone else’s long term relationship.

The problem is, Clarke doesn’t have any idea why.

 

-

 

Friday night definitely draws more of a crowd than during the week and when Clarke steps into Northern Lights, she spots Harper and Murphy behind the bar doing their thing. She picks up some empty beer glasses on her way, plonking them onto the bar top as she sits down on her usual stool.

‘Hi, Clarke’ Harper grins, making her way over to her after finishing serving a customer. ‘Helping out?’

‘And drinking’ Clarke mutters, causing Harper’s brows to furrow.

‘Oh? It’s been a while since you’ve come here to drink’ she starts preparing her vodka as she says it.

‘It’s been a hard day’ Clarke admits, feeling thoroughly exhausted.

Raven stayed for ages and despite how they started out, Clarke ended up really liking her. She’s funny and smart and Clarke can see why Finn liked her. She assured Clarke that she was never taking Finn back and they ended up arranging to hang out again - they might as well try to salvage something good out of their shared disaster. A friendship is a good place to begin.

‘Want to talk about it?’ Harper slides her the vodka but Clarke shakes her head.

Raven hadn’t been the only thing on her mind. She wasn’t even going to come here tonight but something inside her pushed her here, this subconscious pull to _him_.

She needs to know - she needs to know what Bellamy was doing at The Rig, why he took off yesterday after their interaction, why he’s been acting to strange. She wants him to tell her who he went home with, who the girl was that called so late last night, if he’s seeing someone.

It’s absolutely none of her business and it’s not like he owes her anything. They’ve grown close over the last while for definite but compared to everyone else, Clarke is pretty much a stranger to him. Why would he tell her anything?

As if on queue, his mop of curly hair comes out from the door behind the bar and Clarke’s heart practically stutters in her chest. She waits for him to meet her eye, watching how he flicks his gaze around his bar before pausing when he lands on her. There’s a change then, a very small one before he catches himself, but one Clarke notices all the same. His face relaxes and his eyes blink, thoughts obviously racing around behind them before he tames himself back to normality.

‘Hey, Princess’ he smirks, like he didn’t just storm away from her last night. Like he hasn’t been acting different with her.

‘Hey’ she says, her tone too clipped. He must notice because he glances around to check that Harper and Murphy are busy before approaching her.

‘I got your message. Sorry, I meant to call you and let you know I was okay.’

‘Why didn’t you?’ Clarke presses, folding her arms across the bar. Confidence pours through her, a sense of assurance in her veins because she’s angry - almost like she has every right to ask this question. He looks taken aback as he stops in front of her, clearly surprised at her being this forward. Hell, she’s surprising herself.

‘I…’ he stumbles. ‘I don’t know. I’m sorry.’

‘Where were you?’ She asks, like she’s a parent wanting to know where her child has been all night, like she has any entitlement to actually know that piece of information. She hates how she's coming across, how she sounds but she can't help it.

‘I was just walking around, trying to clear my head’ he stares at her. ‘I’ve had a lot going on.’

‘All night?’ Clarke quirks an eyebrow and Bellamy shrugs a little in time with his nod - like he’s not sure what response she’s expecting here.

‘Hm’ Clarke nods, not taking her eyes off him. ‘And at what point, in the middle of all your walking around time,’ she moves her hand around, anger radiating from her skin like a heat signal. ‘-did you go to The Rig and punch out my ex?’

Bellamy’s brown eyes still, his face falling into a realisation that Clarke knows more than she has let on here. He glances around again before meeting her eyes with a serious look in them.

‘Keep your voice down’ he instructs her, his tone much more deep than before. Clarke, for the first time since she’s seen him tonight, removes her gaze from his eyes and flicks it down to his hands. His knuckles on his left hand are purple. He follows her stare and then pulls his hands down from the bar top, shielding them from view. ‘Let’s take a walk.’

Bellamy shouts across to Harper and Murphy, telling them that he’ll be back in twenty minutes and if things get too busy, to call him. Without uttering a word, Clarke downs her drink and hops off the barstool, trying very hard to keep herself in check. She needs to address the situation as it is, not let her emotions fuel this conversation.

The problem is, she has no idea why her emotions are this strong. It’s not like she’s in love with the guy, it’s not like she’s looking for anything with him - it just bothers her that he’s lied to her when they’re supposed to be friends, that he’s created a false story, that she apparently isn’t that important to him to even warrant a phone call after closing his bar for him last night and worrying all night about him.

She just wants some goddamn honesty.

Still, if that’s the case, why is her heart racing now as he follows her out of Northern Lights? Why does she care so much about him going home with someone last night?

Why does she care so damn much about someone that’s just supposed to be her friend?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	10. Looking for Love in a Strangers Bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Empty Space’ by Landon Austin (originally by James Arthur but the inspiration for this chapter came from the other version.)

Bellamy watches Clarke’s figure ahead of him, cloaked by darkness in the patches where the street lamps don’t shine.

His heart is tripping in his chest, body tense on it’s own accord. Anticipation is thrumming in his veins, awaiting the inevitable conversation that lies ahead of him.

He follows her aimlessly, not really knowing where she’s leading him until they come to the edge of Ark Lake. It’s about ten minutes from his bar but it felt like the longest walk of his entire life.

It’s actually a pathetic excuse for a lake, if he’s honest. It’s about the size of a large swimming pool and in the summer time, it’s overcrowded with kids who feed the ducks too much bread.

At this time of night though, it’s deserted. The street lamps continue the entire way down the path alongside the lake and he watches as Clarke ventures over to a tyre swing hanging from the willow tree. It’s bright enough there from artificial light to be seen in full capacity and Bellamy is a little disappointed. He wishes the dark would continue hiding that look on her face.

She slots herself into the tyre, facing him as he walks over to her. Her arms are braced on the rubber and she kicks the ground a little to get some motion. There’s a few crickets around, an odd ripple sound coming from the lake and a bare hustle of leaves in the trees when the wind blows but other than that, it’s silent.

Bellamy leans against the bark, hands in his jacket pockets as he watches her. She’s staring at him too, her blue eyes full of questions and her expression full of want for an explanation. The pink at the end of her blonde hair has started to wash out, leaving it a paler shade of the colour it once was. She’s got some lace up ankle boots on, paired with her jeans and a dark blue jacket - even though it’s probably warm enough to go without one. She picks at a thread near the sleeve, waiting for him to say something.

He’s the one that should start but he can’t even decipher where to begin, what to even say.

‘Truth time’ she says after another minute of silence. Bellamy closes his eyes for a second, annoyed at himself for lying to her in the first place. How can he be honest with her though? How can he tell her what Dr. Kane told him yesterday? She’d think he was crazy.

‘What do you wanna know?’ He settles with. If she leads the conversation, he can answer her questions dead straight because she’ll never bring up the topic of soulmates.

‘Where were you last night?’

‘The Rig’ he replies. He had stormed out of Northern Lights and headed straight there, nothing on his mind only a cold glass of Jack, straight and neat.

‘Why?’ Her face is unreadable, her tone much the same. It feels foreign to be talking with Clarke in this flat manner. They normally make their way through their time together by laughing, joking or being sarcastic one another. On the occasions where they have had serious conversations, they’ve been doused in concern for the other party.

 _This_ \- this isn’t how they are. Her on one side, him on the other.

Bellamy shoves his hands deeper into his favourite navy jacket, feeling the corners of Dr. Kane’s business card with his fingertips - a reminder of everything he still has to process from yesterday.

‘To drink’ he shrugs as much as he can against the tree. To her credit, Clarke’s next sentence isn’t to probe at the reason of why he needed to.

‘First, you own a bar. Second, I’ve never seen you take a drink in the entire time I’ve known you.’

It’s not a question, just an observation - and she’s right. He doesn’t drink, ever.

He flicks his eyes to the ground, worrying his bottom lip. Clarke kicks the ground again to make the tyre sway, completely unaware of the feeling he’s experiencing here with her. All Bellamy can think about now is how they’re ‘meant to be’ and how he will eventually fall in love with her. And she has no idea.

The funny thing is, he’s pretty sure that this was the path he was walking down anyway - without Dr. Kane ever telling him, without the visions. Clarke is an amazing girl - pretty, smart, funny, different. Without any of the outside factors, Bellamy feels comfortable with her and he really likes her. Maybe falling in love with this girl was inevitable after all.

’After my mom died, I spent most of my time drunk’ he starts, breathing shallow. He chances a glance at her because like always, he feels vulnerable exposing his weakness like this and she makes him feel safe. She’s still pissed, he can tell that much, but her eyes have a hint of softness in them now.

’I felt like I needed it to make it through the day. I thought if I drank enough, I could drown the guilt and the pain with it.’

Clarke sucks in her bottom lip slightly but that’s all the change that comes over her face. If it wasn’t for this honesty talk, he’s not sure he would have told her this. It’s not something he really relishes in talking about, not a typical time in his life to be bragging over. Still, she’s easy to talk to - even if she’s mad at him. Perks of being his soulmate, he guesses.

Octavia, Harper and Miller experienced this messy chapter of his life first hand and traces of the story got passed along to the rest of the group over time. He ended up telling Gina a lighter version of the story one night but other than that, this part of his life is closed off.

‘It just made everything worse. It intensified my panic attacks, made me feel sorry for myself, caused me to contact Octavia every night even though she just wanted space from me. I should have given her that’ he scoffs, disgusted with himself.

‘You were grieving too’ she says quietly, making him look at her again. She had responded like this on the balcony too, excusing his mistakes. It just proves her kindness and speaks volumes about her character - her ability to see the good in everyone.

‘I left her alone to look after our mother. I didn’t deserve to lean on her.’

‘ _Yes_ , you did. You didn’t know your mom was sick’ Clarke counters, repeating herself from the night they talked about all of this.

‘Not physically’ he mutters, letting the implication lie.

‘Bellamy’ she says his name with such conviction that it makes his eyes snap to hers once more. She’s staring at him, a look in her eyes like she wants to shake him. ‘You looked after your sister and your mother your entire life. I’m sure you missed out on a lot and I’m sure you sacrificed a lot as well. On top of that, if you had of known how sick your mom was while serving, you would have come home. Octavia can project her anger all she wants but both you and her know the truth. She just doesn’t want to admit it yet, doesn’t want to face the fact that she should have been there for you too.’

Bellamy can’t say anything. His mouth is dry and he can only stare at this girl who is wise beyond her years. Nobody has ever said anything like that to him before - that maybe he had a right to be upset too, to grieve, to miss his mom.

‘I’m assuming you quit drinking?’ She pushes off the ground again and he follows the movement of the tyre.

‘Yeah’ he finds his voice again, though it sounds raspy and shot. ‘Octavia told me I was no better than mom - letting addiction swallow me whole, just like she got swallowed whole with her depression. I quit, opened the bar and named it after my mother.’ When Clarke makes a confused face, he clarifies. ‘Aurora.’

For the first time all night, a smile appears on Clarke’s face.

‘Aurora Borealis’ she confirms. ‘The Northern Lights.’

Bellamy gives her a small smile in return.

‘Thought if I could work hard, pour myself into the bar, face alcohol every day and not give in - it would atone for all the work I didn’t put in with my mother near the end. So yeah, I haven’t drank since.’

‘Except for last night?’

‘I didn’t drink it’ he sighs, thinking back on the temptation. He had sat at the bar, staring at the glass of Jack for a long time, fighting the battle of wanting to down it and wanting to keep strong. He didn’t want to deal with any of it - Clarke, soulmates, the flashbacks to previous lives. Nothing.

‘I knew I couldn’t have one at Northern Lights - in the very place that stands for how far I’ve come. Besides, Murphy and the others wouldn’t have allowed it.’

Not to mention that he couldn’t be around Clarke in that moment, the main reason for his confusion.

‘I’m proud of you’ she whispers and his heart definitely skips two beats. ‘Whatever is going on that’s causing you stress right now, you’re stronger than it. And you know it, or you would have drank last night.’

The tears are already pricking his eyes before he can catch them. He blinks a few times, dropping his gaze to the grass below him so she can’t tell how upset he is. _Fuck_ , this girl is something else.

‘How did punching Finn come into all of this?’ She asks after a few seconds of silence.

Bellamy is already emotionally raw - how is he going to tell her the rest?

 

_‘What are you doing?’ Bellamy hears Gina’s voice over the music._

_When he looks up from his drink, she’s staring at him from the other side of the bar, hands on her hips and a disapproving look on her face. Her curls fall loose around her shoulders and her eyes are steady on him._

_‘What does it look like?’_

_‘It looks like the world is ending because Bellamy Blake is in The Rig on a Thursday night, knowing full well that his bar is left without him and he has a goddamn drink in his hands’ she says._

_When he shrugs in response, not bothered that she’s unimpressed with him, she takes the Jack and tosses it down the sink._

_‘Hey!’ He snaps, eyebrows furrowed now as he lets his emotions bubble over. All he can feel is burning - he’s so fucking angry. He seems to be the only one experiencing these ‘flashbacks’ in his and Clarke’s so-called reincarnated life together. More than that, he feels completely out of control in his own life._

_He doesn’t know what to do about the information he received today, what to think - Clarke is his soulmate? He’s spent other lives with her?_

_Bullshit._

_It has to be wrong._

_It would make sense as to why he’s seeing these other lives with her but he’s so goddamn pissed right now that he doesn’t want to believe it. Now his whole life is set out in front of him? No - life is about choice. He has to be able to pick who he wants to be with._

_‘What is going on with you?’ Gina raises her voice over the music, the bass booming under her tone._

_It’s dark in The Rig, lights flashing all around in colourful bursts. It’s overcrowded too, people packed onto the dance floor as they dance in their drunken hazes. Mainly students letting loose. Bellamy isn’t sure this is even music - just constant noise._

_‘Nothing’ he snaps, being a little mean because she’ll let him away with it. He’s known Gina for too long._

_‘It’s over that girl, isn’t it? The blonde girl?’_

_Bellamy looks at her from under his eyebrows. Gina has seen Clarke before but it was a while ago, before he ever knew about the reality of his situation. They weren’t even really friends then, he barely knew her._

_‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ he grumbles._

_‘Yeah’ she scoffs out a laugh. ‘You do. I saw the way you looked at her. What’s going on?’_

_‘Get me another drink, Gina.’_

_‘You don’t want to do this’ she shakes her head, eyes searching him for a trace of sanity._

_No, he doesn’t. But he needs to._

_‘Gina’ he warns and she throws her hands up, filling another glass of Jack for him. She slaps the glass down in front of him, a challenge in her eye because part of her knows he won’t drink it. He had been staring at his previous drink for over half an hour - if he was going to fall off the wagon, he would have done it by now._

_‘Enjoy’ she bites out, stalking off down the bar to serve someone else._

_Bellamy slams his fist onto the bar top before scrubbing a hand through his curls._

_Fuck. He needs a distraction._

_When he looks around, he checks out some of the girls in here. They’re about Clarke’s age, having a good time and drinking to their hearts content. A lot of them are pretty slammed at this hour in the night, wearing half nothing as they parade themselves around._

_Maybe he can take control of his life - maybe he can ignore this mess with Clarke and just sleep with one of them. Maybe the problem is that he hasn’t got laid in a while._

_He hasn’t made a habit of casual sex since Gina, knowing what path that lead them down. But tonight, a one night stand is looking particularly appealing._

_As he rakes his eyes over the crowd, he lands on a familiar set looking right back at him. They’re staring at Bellamy, his stupid floppy hair making him all too recognizable._

_Finn, Clarke’s ex._

_He’s beside some brunette who is bopping her head to the music, looking very much like the girl that Clarke described to him. Gal Gadot._

_Finn smirks at Bellamy then, shaking his head like he’s the one who can pass judgement. Like Bellamy is the piece of shit between the two of them. After what he did to Clarke? Cheating on her, isolating her, grabbing her wrist in his bar. And really, the thoughts of that is what does it._

_Bellamy is up before he can think it through, reaching Finn in two strides and connecting his fist with his face in a matter of seconds. Finn falls to the ground, clutching his nose as he groans. Gal Gadot is screaming at him and the crowd have separated, backing away from the altercation._

_‘You piece of fucking shit!’ Bellamy roars at Finn, towering over him with his shoulders squared. ‘You stay the hell away from her.’_

_Finn is scrambling up at this point, looking like he’s about ready to hit Bellamy right back. That would be a mistake._

_‘Fuck home to your slut’ he says, trying to make his way over to Bellamy but apparently, at some point, the bouncers have got there and are now holding Bellamy and Finn away from one another._

_That word sends Bellamy’s temper over the edge and when he speaks, there’s a calm to his voice with an undertone of murder._

_‘What did you say?’_

_As the words leave Bellamy’s lips, he’s simultaneously trying to get out over one of large bouncers that is holding him back._

_‘You heard me’ Finn spits, blood pouring from some part of his face. Could be his nose, could be his lip - Bellamy can’t really tell._

_‘How dare you call her that after what you did! Don’t you ever come near Clarke again! I’m warning you’ Bellamy shouts, his voice booming over the music and the bouncers instructions to calm down._

_‘Yeah, yeah’ Finn waves him off. ‘Go home to her. Go on, run along.’_

_My God, he’ll break his teeth._

_After another surge to break out past the bouncers, he hears Gina’s voice come up behind him. The bouncers had been dragging Bellamy back towards the door to kick him out, probably figuring out that he’s the one who started this, but Gina has stopped them._

_‘I know him. Bring him out back with me.’_

_Before he knows it, he’s sitting on a low stool in the stock room with crates all around him, heavy breathing as Gina examines his hand. He hit Finn with such force that it’s definitely going to bruise._

_‘If someone started crap like that in your bar…’ Gina tuts but Bellamy is wound up. He can barely focus. The music is a dull roar around him now, even though the bass is still vibrating against his skin._

_‘That asshole did start crap in my bar, with Clarke.’_

_‘The blonde girl?’ Gina asks flatly. ‘I knew this whole night stemmed from her.’_

_‘You don’t get it’ he mumbles._

_‘Well then enlighten me, Bellamy’ she says brusquely. ‘Because this isn’t you.’_

_He almost considers it, focusing on Gina’s face for the first time since he was brought in here. He thinks about it, then thinks about how crazy it would sound and stands up. He has to try take control._

_‘Forget it’ he brushes by her and out the door. He vaguely hears her calling him as the music meets his ears full force again._

_He’s making for the exit until a girl grabs his arm - she’s pretty, blonde and eager._

_‘Hello gorgeous’ she smiles and Bellamy smirks right back, giving into this easy interaction. ‘You leaving so soon?’_

_‘Yeah’ he gives her a glance up and down, ensuring to turn his flirting volume up to the max. He can choose his own damn path in life. Fuck fate. ‘You coming?’_

_‘Damn right I am’ she raises an eyebrow, clearly more than happy to see where this night takes them. ‘My place?’_

_‘Bellamy’ Gina shouts at him from the bar. ‘Are you kidding me? This isn’t a cure for anything.’_

_He ignores her, wrapping his arm around his partner for the night as he walks towards the door._

_‘Bellamy!’ Gina calls after him. ‘ Bellamy!’_

 

Her voice echoes out of his mind as he comes back to the lake.

Clarke is staring at him, waiting for an explanation. He feels so guilty - like he somehow betrayed her. They aren’t together and if Clarke’s adamant perception on dating is anything to go by, they might never be - but still, she’s his soulmate. And sleeping with someone else didn’t change that like he had hoped.

He wanted to take charge of his own fate, choose who he wanted to be with and if he got to do that, he wanted to pick someone who would actually want him back.

‘I saw him at The Rig. Let my emotions get the better of me, punched him’ he keeps it simple. ‘I couldn’t stand knowing how he treated you. You deserve better.’

‘Hitting him isn’t going to change anything, Bellamy’ she says.

‘I know, but if the alcohol wasn’t going to make me feel better - at least that did.’

It’s a lame excuse and it doesn’t justify his actions. He’s better than that, he doesn’t need to hit the guy to make Finn feel bad - Bellamy presumes he already feels bad enough. He’s lost Clarke and Bellamy imagines it’s the worst feeling in the world.

Clarke, to his surprise, breaks into a laugh. He watches her, a small smile creeping onto his own face to match. Well, if nothing else, punching Finn was worth this. It’s the best thing he’s heard all week. He laughs too, chuckling softly against the tree bark.

When their laughter fades out, she looks up at him from her position on the tyre - a vulnerability in her eyes that Bellamy didn’t really expect.

‘Raven said you left with some girl last night’ she says evenly and Bellamy’s eyes fall shut.

 _Fuck_. It shouldn’t hurt her when she doesn’t have any interest in him like that but all the same, he doesn’t make a habit of sleeping with random girls anymore and he doesn’t want her to think he’s like that now.

‘Raven?’ He asks.

‘Finn’s ex. The girl that he was in a relationship with while he was with me’ Clarke explains.

Wait, _what?_

‘Gal Gadot?’ He clarifies and she nods.

‘She came by this morning. Turns out I was the mistress’ she shrugs and now Bellamy suddenly wishes he got a few more good punches in.

‘That son of a bitch’ he shakes his head. Their entire relationship was a lie and he had tricked two girls into believing that he was a good guy. No wonder Clarke has sworn off dating, doesn’t buy the ‘love’ thing anymore.

‘But anyway’ Clarke brings the subject back to the original one. ‘You went home with someone?’

‘Yeah’ Bellamy admits. ‘It’s not something I really do anymore. It was just…’

‘A better escape route than alcohol’ Clarke finishes for him and when he checks her face, she has a small smile on it like she understands. ‘It’s fine, Bellamy’ she shrugs one shoulder, her tone not really selling that statement. ‘You can tell me these things. I was just worried about where you were and after the way you took off, I thought something was really wrong between us.’

‘No, there’s nothing wrong’ he says and really, that isn’t a lie. Having her as a soulmate isn’t wrong and after his talk last night with Gina, he feels better about it all. ‘Thank you for closing last night. And I’m sorry I worried you.’

‘We’re good’ she slips out of the tyre and walks over to stand in front of him ‘We’ll just practice some honesty in this friendship from now on.’

He can see her features up close now and his eyes drift down to her lips before he can stop himself. It would be so easy to lean in and kiss her right now but since when is his life ever that easy? She’s not ready for this.

‘Truth time’ he says, giving her a smile and she returns it with a light shove to his shoulder.

‘Truth time.’

Clarke leans forward then, enveloping Bellamy in a hug he didn’t know he needed. The warmth coming from her spreads to his heart and fuck, he knows she’s the one. Nothing else could feel like this. This makes him feel more alive than last night ever did.

It’s been well over an hour since they left Northern Lights so they start to make their way back, hoping that the bar hasn’t been overrun with people because he’s left Harper and Murphy short staffed. He told them he’d only be twenty minutes.

His heart is a little lighter as they go, fingers brushing off one another every so often. It’s an easy quiet now, not awkward or uncomfortable and every time Clarke touches him - even if it’s on accident, his heart jumps.

Bellamy let’s himself drift back to last night again after a few minutes of silence, his thoughts consuming the rest of the walk home.

 

_Bree is a good fuck but Bellamy can barely concentrate._

_He’s sleeping with her to prove a point to himself and really, that motive doesn’t do much for orgasms. She’s already come twice and he can’t seem to finish._

_That’s when the flashback hits._

_He’s suddenly looking down at Clarke, fucking her missionary style. Her face is contorted in pleasure, jaw slack as he fucks up into her. He has enough sense of self to realise that he isn’t wearing a condom and the feeling is euphoric._

_‘Bellamy’ she moans. ‘Harder.’_

_And like he’s hardwired to follow her every command, he automatically quickens his pace. Her moans get louder as his thrusts get deeper and when she comes, she drags him over the edge with her._

_Upon opening his eyes, Bree is staring up at him smiling - spent, satiated._

_‘That was good’ she chuckles, in a happy daze as Bellamy slips out of her._

_‘Yeah’ he mumbles, not daring to admit that the only reason he got off was because he slipped into a flashback of sleeping with Clarke._

_No pain or panic had come with it this time - maybe because he knows what they are now. He almost laughs out loud. Trying to control fate clearly worked a treat._

_He ties the condom and tosses it into the bin before he starts getting dressed._

_‘You aren’t staying?’ Bree asks but she’s already yawning, her voice cloaked with sleep. He imagines she doesn’t really care if he does or not._

_‘Nah, gotta split’ he says as he pulls on his t-shirt._

_‘Leave your number’ she slurs, sleep obviously taking her already._

_He doesn’t. He slips out of her apartment as quietly as he can, pulling out his phone as he closes the door behind him._

_He has a few missed calls from Clarke, a voice message, a couple of texts from Murphy and a missed call from Gina._

_He clicks into the voice message first and Clarke’s sweet voice fills his ear._

_‘Bellamy, it’s Clarke. I’m outside your apartment but uh, I guess you’re not home.’_

_He closes his eyes, guilt lapping over him in waves. No, he’s at some girls place after having a one night stand._

_‘I’m worried about you - the way you just took off tonight, I didn’t mean…’ she draws out, stopping mid-sentence like she doesn’t know where to go with it. Fuck - none of this is her fault and he hates that she thinks it is. It’s his for not being able to cope with all of this, to understand it._

_‘Well, I let Murphy go at 9 like you promised and I locked up.’_

_‘Fuck’ he murmurs - he forgot that Murphy couldn’t work all night. He was too goddamn busy being wrapped up in his own shit. And now Clarke has stayed on to help him out, like she always does lately._

_‘The keys are under the bar and I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.’_

_He hangs up, considering calling her back but it’s already late. Besides, his head is all over the place right now. What would he say? What explanation would he offer her?_

_Before he knows it, his feet have carried him to a nest of apartments a couple of blocks from Bree’s place. He knocks on number 12, silently berating himself for bothering her so late._

_When Gina opens the door, she’s still in her work clothes so she must only be in ahead of him. He looks up at her from under his curls, a sheepish look surely on his face. He doesn’t say anything and neither does Gina, she just opens the door wider for him to come in._

_She doesn’t even have to tell him ‘I told you so’ because he knows. He knew sleeping with someone else or turning to alcohol wouldn’t fix everything._

_He lets himself collapse on her bright blue couch, something that he teased her over multiple times but now it feels like a comfort. Gina may only have been a hookup rather than a girlfriend to him but she was a good person - she was a friend._

_Even now, she doesn’t push him to talk. She simply sits down beside him and waits until he gets himself together enough to form a sentence._

_‘I think I’m in trouble’ he begins and Gina pulls her feet up, curling them under herself to get comfortable. ‘I feel like I’m out of control, like I’m falling down this road towards Clarke and I can do nothing to stop it.’_

_‘Why is that a bad thing?’ Gina asks, a kindness in her tone that makes him want to cry. He doesn’t have to tell her about this ‘fate’ thing that Dr. Kane told him about but he can talk about the subject with her in a roundabout way._

_‘Because she doesn’t want a relationship, doesn’t want anything to do with love. And I’m not a good enough for her, and I’m so fucking angry because I didn’t even get a choice in all of this. I didn’t even get to decide that…’_

_‘Hold on’ Gina interrupts him. ‘First of all, don’t ever let me hear you say that you aren’t good enough for anyone ever again. That’s bullshit, Bellamy.’_

_He flicks his stare down to his bruised hand, anything to distract him from the heaviness of this whole thing._

_‘That is not a factor here, so don’t ever mention it again. Second, what she wants now and what she will want later are very different. Do you know how many times I’ve sworn off guys?’ She says lightly and Bellamy lets out a huff of a laugh. ‘Give her time, and I’m not saying to waste your life waiting for her or anything but if a girl is able to make Bellamy Blake this wrecked over her, I think she’s definitely special.’_

_Bellamy meets Gina’s eye again, watching the sincerity flow through her in waves. He immediately feels guilty for not being able to feel this way about her. It’s not fair that she has to listen to this now, he feels like he’s using her as a venting system but he just didn’t know where else to go._

_‘Third, love doesn’t generally tend to give out choices. That’s not really how it works.’_

_‘I’m not in love with her’ Bellamy shakes his head but it seems the more he says that, the more false it rings in his head. If he’s not there yet, he’s definitely heading there._

_‘Bellamy’ Gina says as if to balance him. ‘You need to ask yourself this - if you could choose her, would you?’_

_He pauses at this and it’s like a light switches on. Shit - he would. He’d choose Clarke every damn time._

_’Exactly’ she takes his expression as confirmation. ‘So really, what does it matter that you don’t have a choice now?’_

_He looks up at Gina once more, sadness washing over him._

_‘Gina, I’m so sorry’ he begins. ‘I know what we had, it…’_

_‘Stop’ she reaches out, putting her hand on his shoulder. ‘Don’t apologise for not feeling that way with me. You were honest and you told me straight up. You can’t help who you feel things for, the same way as I couldn’t stop my feelings for you. I’ve made my peace with that.’ He must still look as unconvinced as he feels because she continues. ‘I’ve moved on and I’m good now. I just want you to be happy too.’_

_After a cup of tea and a little longer spent with Gina, Bellamy feels considerably better._

_When he’s on his way out, she gives him a hug and tells him to call her if he ever needs her._

_‘Thanks, Gina. I mean it.’_

_‘Don’t sweat it’ she says, holding onto the door as he leaves. ‘Just Bellamy, be careful.’_

_’What do you mean?’_

_’I mean, I’ve never seen you like this before. I want you to be okay but this girl, I don’t think she realizes the power she has. Just - protect yourself too, okay?’_

_Gina leans her cheek against the wood on the door, staring at him with a look that he knows all too well. She’s worried for him, worried that Clarke will break him._

_’I will’ he promises her, even though he’s not sure how to do that. He’s spent so long protecting everyone else that he doesn’t know how to do it for himself._

_He thinks about it all the way home, listening to the early morning birds starting to rise. That’s a problem he hasn’t even thought of and it’s a very real possibility the further he goes down this road._

_Bellamy will eventually fall in love with Clarke - but will she ever let herself love him in return?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	11. Falling like the Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. Oh my goodness. Thank you all for your patience with me and this fic.  
> Real life took up half of my time and the other half was taken up with other commitments.  
> If you don't know, myself and @pawprinterfanfic set up [Bellarke Bingo](https://bellarkebingo.tumblr.com) which is a fanfic challenge (sign ups are always opened) and that has been super busy. I also wanted to finish my [Bellarke Big Bang](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19790701/chapters/46853467) before coming back to this fic.  
> Never the less, I am back now and I hope you enjoy the new update if you're still with me.
> 
> Chapter title is from the song 'Falling like the Stars’ by James Arthur.
> 
> Also, massive shoutout to @TheNightBloodSolution (clarkgriffon on Tumblr) for creating another amazing [moodboard](https://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/186336752159/clarkgriffon-bellarke-waste-it-on-me-by) for one of my fics. She made one previously for Devil Side and now she has made one for Waste It on Me. So stoked and so in love with it. Thank you so much, darling.

Clarke feels more confused than ever.

Bellamy and her straightened things out, most of her questions were answered and she is a lot clearer on Thursday night’s spiral now than she had been - but _damn_ , she can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling in her gut when she thinks of Bellamy with someone else. She has no idea why it’s there - she has zero interest in dating, zero interest in putting herself back out there and it’s not like she ever viewed Bellamy as someone she would eventually get with so really, she can’t explain the feeling.

Instead, Clarke brushes it under the carpet and distracts herself with helping out in Northern Lights. She feels more attached to the place now, if that’s possible. Bellamy’s story behind why he named it and what it stands for just lit a fire under the already blooming passion she had for the bar.

Sunday night is drawing to a close with just a few customers remaining on last orders. It’s been a long few days but she would rather be here than at home in bed and that is saying something. The heat seems to only be getting stronger and everyone inside the bar is sweating. It has to break soon, the heaviness in the air is too much. Apart from a little air conditioning, Clarke would change nothing about the place.

Bellamy is scribbling something down in his accounts book, one hand holding up his head against the bar as he writes. He’s in his blue t-shirt and his dark curls flop over his fingers. Harper and Murphy are fluttering in and out of the stock room out the back, trying to get a head start on Tuesday’s work and Clarke is drying glasses. It all seems so normal now, so comfortable.

‘Hey Princess, can you pass me the phone book?’ Bellamy, without looking at her, gestures to a black pocket book on the other side of Clarke. She does it, realising that their conversation on Friday night didn’t affect their friendship in the slightest. It’s like it never happened and Clarke is glad of it. She’s not sure what she’d do without him to talk to.

‘So, I know tomorrow night is family night…’ Clarke starts off, watching Bellamy jot a phone number down with a circle around it - probably a reminder to call someone tomorrow about business.

‘Uh huh’ he hums, still writing.

‘And I know it’s a pretty exclusive club membership and all, but I was wondering would it be okay if I invited Raven?’ she rushes out, the thought having been playing on her mind since last night. Saturday night had been crazy, as it always is. The Delinquents drew their promised crowd and Clarke barely had a second to think, but when she checked her phone later that night, Raven had text to know if Clarke wanted to meet up with her again.

At this, Bellamy looks up at her, the action making Clarke’s stomach flip like it always does when he meets her eye.

‘Finn’s girlfriend?’

‘Ex-girlfriend’ Clarke corrects him, swirling her cloth around a pint glass. ‘I don’t think she has anyone. I’d imagine Finn kept her pretty isolated the same way he did with me - and she’s cool.’

‘Clarke’ Bellamy says but Clarke goes on.

‘I just don’t want her to be by herself and I don’t know, she feels like my friend now and I…’

‘ _Clarke_ ’ Bellamy laughs. ‘It’s fine. If she’s a friend of yours, she’s a friend of mine. Tell her to come round.’

Clarke stops dead, her movements halting completely.

‘Really?’

‘Of course’ Bellamy makes a face like it’s no big deal. Everything was always a big deal with Finn - whenever Clarke had wanted to do anything, it required a massive elaboration of point fighting and reasons why she needed to do it. It strikes Clarke then at how messed up her relationship with Finn actually was and her heart goes out further to Raven - she had to put up with him much longer.

‘Oh by the way, Bellamy’ Murphy says as he comes out from the hallway behind the bar. ‘The supplier called again for you today. I told him you’d get back to him tomorrow.’

‘Thanks Murphy’ Bellamy replies, going back to writing in his book. That reminds her.

‘Actually’ Clarke starts, Raven drifting to the back of her mind. ‘After I locked up on Thursday night, the bar phone rang.’

Bellamy straightens himself, not really sure where she’s going with this. He nods for her to go on.

‘It was a girl, but maybe it was your one night stand?’ She says quietly, her stomach clenching on it’s own accord when the words leave her tongue.

‘I didn’t leave her my number’ Bellamy frowns and for some reason, Clarke feels a little relieved at this. ‘Did this girl say anything?’

‘Not really, asked for you and sounded surprised when I said you weren’t here.’

His eyes close then, a sigh coming through his nose as he shakes his head. He closes the book in front of him and busies himself by putting it away and cleaning his workspace.

‘That was O.’

‘Your sister?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I thought you said you haven’t spoken in years?’

‘She doesn’t speak to me’ Bellamy sighs again. ‘Calls, let’s me answer and beg her to talk to me and then hangs up. She’s just checking to see if I’m alive and usually - I’m always here to take her stupid check ins.’

‘I’m sorry’ Clarke winces a little, putting her glass down to it’s home on the shelf. If she had known it was his sister, she might have tried talking to her - reasoning with her, explaining how hurt Bellamy is that they don’t have a relationship. He did so much for his sister and Octavia needs to realise that. That’s not really Clarke’s place though.

Bellamy just holds up his two fingers, a look of genuine disinterest on his face like he’s growing tired of his sister’s behaviour. _Fuck it_. Clarke breaks out into a smile. Maybe all of her conversations with him are making him realise he deserves better treatment from his sister.

She holds up two fingers right back at him, their own little shared mantra in life now. _Fuck it._ Bellamy chuckles and Clarke watches the little lines appearing at the corners of his eyes. He needs to laugh more and Clarke realises that she wants to see him smile all the time. The thought is startling. She hadn’t realised how much it means to her to see this man happy but she wants to make it happen as much as she can.

While she’s finishing with the glasses, Bellamy opens the register and pops some cash down in front of her. Clarke frowns, eyeing him warily.

‘What’s this?’

‘You’ve been working for me most days and doing just as much as Harper and Murphy’ Bellamy busies himself around the bar space again. He doesn’t look at her when he says ‘take it’ - likely to signify that he’s not arguing with her about this.

‘Bellamy, I told you-'

‘Clarke. Take the money. And not a word more about it. You want a job here, you take the pay that comes with it.’

Clarke pauses, eyes searching his side profile. ‘A job?’

‘Yeah. Weekend nights. And Friday’s and Tuesday’s if you don’t have class’ he turns to meet her eye now, sincerity written all over him. She blinks, a little surprised at the offer. It’s not like she’s planning on returning to college. She hasn’t even checked her emails from Polis - she told them she needed some time, but really, she knows in her heart of hearts that she has no intention of going back to medicine. She’s just delaying the inevitable, ignoring her responsibilities. She’ll run from it as long as possible.

‘I thought you couldn’t afford to pay me?’ She questions him. This was just something she was doing to help Bellamy out, an excuse to spend more time here. She never expected an actual job offer and she doesn’t want Bellamy to be under pressure with money, forking out what he doesn’t actually have.

‘Maybe not on Wednesday or Thursday night’s, we don’t generate enough money. But especially weekends, we could probably use the help’ Bellamy straightens. ‘What do you say?’

This is a good opportunity. It may not be a full time job, it may not pay her bills when her dad’s money runs out - but it’s a start. She’s happy here, happier than she’s been in a long time, so maybe being in a positive environment will help her know what direction she wants to take in life. A small smirk appears on her expression, making Bellamy cock his head back with a smug expression of his own. He knows he has her on board.

‘You’ve got yourself a deal, Bellamy Blake.’

 

-

 

Bellamy ends up dropping Clarke home later that night.

The rain is coming down hard, finally bursting and breaking the heatwave that seems to have enshrouded the place. Thunder can be heard rumbling through the skies but the air is heavy, making it feel sticky and uncomfortable.

Clarke had told Bellamy that she’d just get a cab but he insisted, ushering her into the rover in quick haste so as to avoid getting wet. It didn’t make much of a difference in the end - Clarke may as well have walked home. In the short distance from the bar door to where his rover was parked across the street, the two of them ended up getting drenched.

Clarke’s hair is dripping and Bellamy’s blue t-shirt is now a dark shade of navy, so she invited him up to dry off once they got to her place. His jeans aren’t as drenched as the rest of him but still, he’s probably more water than man at this point.

‘It will hopefully stop soon’ she tells him as she flicks the lamp at the end of her couch, shedding light around her apartment. Bellamy shakes his hair out by the door, taking in the details of her home. It’s quaint and clean which is all Clarke can really ask for. She tosses him a towel to dry his hair and she does her own, scrunching the ends to drain the excess water out.

‘Man, it’s really coming down out there’ he mutters as he steps further into her living room.

‘Sorry, probably would have been better just going home myself - you’d be nice and dry in bed by now’ she smirks, pulling at the soaked fabric of her t-shirt.

‘Couldn’t let my new employee go home alone in that weather’ Bellamy laughs, shaking his head but Clarke isn’t ready when he pulls of his own t-shirt, droplets of rainwater flying everywhere. Her breath catches in her chest.

Bellamy’s tanned body is a sight that would make anyone's knees weak. His abs are pristine, glistening from the rain. The shine only emphasises his muscles that seem to be popping from everywhere. Clarke’s mouth has gone dry and she has to force herself to look away, focusing on anything else other than Bellamy drying off his torso with the towel.

‘Um’ she chokes, sounding far too nervous. ‘You can put your t-shirt on the radiator to dry out. I don’t think I have anything to fit you, here.’

‘It’s fine, Princess. I should probably head back anyway.’

A loud roar of thunder rumbles through the apartment at that moment, telling them that the rain isn’t stopping any time soon.

‘For once in your life, do as your told’ she smirks, still avoiding his eye. ‘I’m just gonna get into some dry clothes and then I’ll make us some tea.’

By the time Clarke has emerged back into the living room, dressed in her favourite grey cotton shorts and a black crop t-shirt, Bellamy is sitting on her couch with two steaming mugs of tea in front of him on the coffee table. He’s still topless and Clarke has to force herself to swallow. She knows he’s attractive - it’s something that kind of hits you square in the face when you first see the man, but seeing him on this intimate level, it’s kind of heart stopping.

He’s nothing short of gorgeous.

She doesn’t miss the way his eyes flick over her bare legs either and the realisation brings heat to her cheeks. She promised herself to not be tricked down the ‘love’ road again, but it doesn’t stop her liking the feeling of being admired.

‘Thank you’ she smiles, sitting down beside him as she takes the cup of tea in her hand. With the heat outside, it’s not like they need to be warmed up but there’s something so satisfying about drinking a warm beverage after being soaked to the skin.

Clarke’s hair has transformed back into its natural wavy state, the pink at the ends starting to fade more and more each day. She kinda likes it though and reminds herself to re-dye it at some point. Bellamy’s isn’t much better, an array of soaked dark curls on his head. The only difference is that he looks sexy as hell and she imagines that she looks like a beaver.

Sitting this close to him, with no bar noise or distractions, Clarke can really notice the freckles across his nose and the deep brown of his eyes. They’re so dark, like the colour of her coffee in the mornings. Yet, gold rims his irises like he’s one of the Gods. He’s like the night sky. Full of mystery, all contained in the darkness of his eyes. And when he smiles, the stars shine.

‘It’s a nice apartment’ Bellamy raises his eyebrows, oblivious to her gaze as he gives the place another glance. He leans back against the couch and Clarke makes herself keep her gaze on his face, fearing that they could easily slip down to his abs again.

‘You seem surprised’ she chuckles.

‘Well naturally, I expected you to have a castle, Princess’ he smirks and she rolls her eyes, no real heat behind the action.

‘My mom, she wanted to pay for an apartment like Gaia’s’ Clarke tells him. ‘She’s already paying for my education and I feel like I’m over a barrel with her, like she’s in control of my whole life. Besides, I’m not like her. A luxury home, an expensive car. I don’t want that life.’

‘That life where people have lots of money?’ Bellamy laughs. ‘Yeah, I hear it’s crap.’

‘Shut up’ Clarke chuckles. It’s so easy to talk to him, like she’s known him her whole life. She’s never had that with anyone before. Where she can have a laugh with him and be herself. Where she can complain about heavy stuff and either have the option to hold up two fingers and say 'fuck it' or properly talk it out and feel better afterwards. There's nobody like Bellamy, that much is obvious. He's become her best friend in the space of time they've known one another and she's trusts him completely.

It’s probably why Clarke starts talking about her dad, she thinks. It’s always hard to talk about him, but not with Bellamy. Not since they’ve become closer.

‘When my dad died, he left me some money. He was more like me, liked the simpler things in life - things that made him happy, not things that made him look good. This apartment fits my budget until I can earn my own money.’

‘Sounds like a good plan, Princess’ Bellamy says softly and when she looks at him, he’s staring at her in a way that makes her want to fall apart. He has an effortless way about him, a unique ability to make Clarke feel so at ease. _A plan_ \- she doesn’t have one of those. She has no idea what she’s doing.

‘I don’t want to rely on anyone for money, so I feel bad even using my dads.’

‘We all need a little help sometimes’ he tells her. She feels a little bad even talking like this, feels ungrateful. Her mother is paying for her to go to college and she is basically living in a good apartment for free - Bellamy never had those opportunities. He probably would have loved to have a mother who could get out of bed in the mornings, let alone have the option of attending college.

‘I’m sorry’ she shakes her head, putting her cup down on the table. ‘I didn’t mean to…’

‘Tell me about your dad’ he stops her, his eyes still gentle and kind. He wants to know about the person that meant the most to Clarke and is interested enough to encourage her to talk about him. Maybe he knows that she needs to, knows that she bottles everything up about her dad until it weighs heavy on her chest. That maybe now is the time.

‘He was amazing’ she begins, smiling. ‘He taught music and everyone loved him. He was always encouraging me to sing, to play the guitar like him.’ Bellamy smiles too but his eyes are a little tight, like he knows how hard this is for her. ‘He didn’t care about me being a doctor, he just wanted me to be happy - and music makes me happy.’

She has to take a breath then, swallow the lump forming in her throat because she’s getting to the part that makes her want to get into bed and never see the light of day again. Bellamy must sense it because he reaches out, touching her bare knee with his hand. The action sends shivers through her but yet, she draws strength from it.

‘An aneurism killed him. Out of the blue - one day he was here, the next he wasn’t.’

The tears are falling before she can stop them. She hasn’t spoken about this in so long.

‘My mom, she didn’t even notice anything. She said there were no signs, that dad wasn’t complaining - but she’s a doctor, Bellamy’ Clarke shakes her head, voice wobbling. ‘How could she _not know_? How can I work in a profession where I can’t stop something like that?’

‘Clarke’ Bellamy whispers.

‘He and my mom separated just before it happened and I guess I never really forgave her for it. Maybe she would have seen the signs if they were still together, even though they saw each other a lot because of me. She said they had grown apart, that they weren’t really meant for one another. That she had found someone else.’

When Clarke checks Bellamy’s expression, he seems to have stopped breathing. He’s still looking at her encouragingly though, so she goes on.

‘This guy at the hospital, who she’s now married to’ Clarke scoffs, barely able to believe her mother. ‘She says they’re ‘soulmates’ or whatever.’

Bellamy shuffles a little on the couch, keeping his hand on her knee. His voice is a little hoarse when he talks.

‘You don’t believe in that stuff?’

Clarke just gives him a pointed look in response. How can she? After Finn and everybody else who has broken her heart? Her mother included. She ended a marriage, left her father for some fairytale crap that doesn’t exist.

‘You can’t help who you fall in love with, Clarke’ Bellamy says and she looks at him. He’s staring at his hand that’s resting on her knee, an emotion shrouding his features that she can’t name. The way he said that, it was like it pained him deeply. ‘I’m sure your mom didn’t mean to hurt anyone, but sometimes you gotta go with your heart. And I think this feud you have with her is stopping you from understanding that.’

Clarke wipes a stray tear from her cheek. She’s not sure what to say to that - mainly because she knows he’s right. She’s built up this wall, refusing her mother entry for years now. At the start, Abby pushed to let herself in, tried everything - tried doctor mode, tried the tough guy method, tried to be soft with her but Clarke remained firm, solid and unmoving. Eventually, Abby just gave Clarke space. She knew she had Finn and that she’d be okay but Clarke gave her mother no option but to give up. It’s her fault that they don’t have a relationship, all because Clarke can’t let go of her anger.

Bellamy gives her knee another squeeze, pulling Clarke from her thoughts that are swallowing her whole. When he speaks again, it’s like glass shattering in the room.

‘It’s not your mom’s fault that he died.’

And there it is. Something that Clarke needed to hear. Something that she knew, but let herself blame her mother for it anyway. It was easier that way, to be angry rather than face the truth. Her mother grieved for her dad more than anyone because despite it all, she did love him. Maybe not in the way that Clarke wanted them to be in love, but Abby did all the same.

Bellamy is right. Maybe Clarke has been a little harsh with her mom - but how does she even start repairing that relationship? There’s so much water under the bridge, so many things Clarke has said. She didn’t even go to her wedding.

‘Come here’ Bellamy pulls her into him because somewhere along the way, Clarke has started sobbing. Massive waves of grief crash against her body and everything she has bottled up over the last few years takes its toll. She lies into him, the warmth of his bare skin lulling her into a sense of security and comfort. ‘Shh’ he soothes her, rocking her gently in his arms as she cries.

Bellamy has had more than his fair share of family troubles, so he’s probably the perfect person to be here for her right now. They provide equal comfort for one another, a steady support system in the wake of terrible events.

Clarke didn’t expect tonight to go this way, lying in Bellamy’s arms while she cries over her dead dad and her behaviour towards her mother, but here she is. And maybe she needed it - she wants to find out who she is, start a better life for herself - but how can she do that when her past is weighing her down? Still shaping her to be the person she doesn’t want to be? Bitter, unforgiving, lost.

She realises then that Bellamy is a lighthouse in the dark, a sign to show her the way. He’s the only thing anchoring her, giving her something to focus on and work towards. Giving her hope.

Clarke has never been more grateful for Bellamy Blake and right now, she thanks her lucky stars that Finn cheated on her. If he didn’t, she would have never met this man - and that would have been the biggest tragedy of all.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	12. You Take It All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sound the trumpets because a miracle has happened. I managed to get out a chapter update this week for this fic, all the while filling out two prompt requests from my follower celebration on tumblr.
> 
> I will link them below in case you guys need a little something extra after this chapter - it's actually one of my favourites to date.
> 
> Chapter title is from the song 'You Will Find Me’ by Alex and Sierra, which is also the song featured in this chapter. It's one of my all time favourites and I highly recommend giving it a listen for context in this chapter.

When Bellamy opens his eyes, it’s pitch black in Clarke’s apartment.

He sits up a little, stiff from the awkward way he fell asleep. Clarke had drifted off first, exhausted and worn out from crying over her family situation. God, it broke Bellamy’s heart to hear her so upset. She had really opened up though, something he found it hard to get her to do. He barely knows anything about her life so as difficult as it was, he’s glad that she told him.

The couch is scratchy against his bare torso, sweat still sticking to him from the heat outside. The thunder storm didn’t bring much relief from the heaviness in the air, it seems. The last thing Bellamy remembers before sleep took him was Clarke lying against him, her head tucked into his chest as her breathing evened out. He couldn’t think of a more perfect way to fall asleep. He hadn’t meant to spend the night but he couldn’t disturb her - she looked so peaceful.

Now, though, Clarke is gone from him and his heart skips a little until he hears it. The gentle thrum of guitar strings. The clock on the wall reads 3am as Bellamy makes his way through her apartment, following the soft sound of her singing. She’s purposefully trying to keep her voice low, probably to avoid waking him, so Bellamy uses the opportunity of invisibility to lean against her bedroom door, taking in her form.

Clarke is sitting cross-legged on her bed, facing her window, her back to him as the street lights pour in - only shining their glow on her. She looks angelic, heavenly and beautiful as she murmurs out a song. She’s staring at her guitar strings as she plucks them, a quiet melody being created from her talented fingers.

Her room is shrouded in darkness so it’s hard to make out anything. All he can really tell is that her double bed is perfectly made and she has a photo frame of a man holding a guitar on the windowsill in front of her. If Bellamy was a betting man, he’d put money on it that it’s her father.

He folds his arms across his bare chest, giving himself a long moment to watch her in her peaceful state until he finally needs more. He needs to hear her.

‘A little louder’ he says, his voice low and hoarse from sleep. Clarke jumps slightly on the bed, looking over her shoulder as she sees him in her doorway. He’s sure his hair is a mess of curls on top of his head, tousled from the rain earlier and the way he fell asleep - he wishes he looked better for her.

‘God, Bellamy’ she half laughs. ‘You scared me.’

‘Sorry, Princess’ he chuckles, stepping into her bedroom a little more. He doesn’t miss the way her eyes flick down his body, sticking for a moment on his jeans resting against his bare hip bones. She pulls her gaze back to her guitar then, like she’s schooling herself to conform.

‘I didn’t mean to wake you’ she smiles, one that seems reserved only for him. He can’t help but stare, especially when she can’t see him doing it. Her cotton shorts show too much leg for Bellamy to be able to pull his gaze away, even though he’s scolding himself because he should be a gentleman. She’s gorgeous though, he can’t not notice.

‘You didn’t’ he assures her. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep’ she admits. ‘Too many thoughts.’

Bellamy’s brow creases together, an ache inside his chest that makes him want to reach out to her. He knows that she’s feeling guilty over how things are with her mom and he can see where she’s coming from - he really can. But she’ll never be happy if she can’t let it go, especially not when she’s in such a negative mindset. He remembers how his heart almost stopped when she was talking about soulmates, about how her mother apparently has one. Maybe this thing they’re destined to be is more common than he thought.

Clarke has had bad experiences with love and Bellamy can’t really blame her for doubting the whole thing, but the fact of the matter is - they are soulmates. They both need to fully accept that. Maybe Bellamy will actually read the documents that Dr. Kane gave to him - he needs to understand it more.

‘The guitar helps?’ He wonders aloud, taking a seat at the end of her bed. The mattress is soft underneath him, dipping as it takes his weight. She turns fully now to face him, her expression half hidden in the darkness of the room. One leg is now swung over the edge of the bed, the other tucked underneath her as she settles her guitar across herself.

‘Clears my head’ she nods, a soft smile still on her face. ‘Although I haven’t done it in a long time’ she admits.

‘Sing for me’ Bellamy hears himself ask and Clarke meets his eyes, a sparkle in them that he had forgotten about. He witnessed it the night in his bar when she sang for them all, observed how the entirety of her being got lost in the music that she loved so much. She’s incredibly gifted, something that she’s carried with her through multiple lives it seems.

‘That time in your bar was an exception’ she shrugs one shoulder, avoiding his eye just as quick as she had met it. ‘I was drinking and-’

‘Please?’ Bellamy whispers, never breaking his stare. They lock eyes once more and she holds his gaze for a beat until she sighs with a smile, like she’s not able to say no to him.

‘Any requests?’ She asks quietly, tuning her guitar.

‘I’d listen to you sing anything’ he mumbles. He watches Clarke shiver and he wonders if his rough voice affects her the way it used to affect other girls. They’d beg him to talk dirty to them in bed, anything to hear the way his voice would vibrate the way it does when he drops it that low.

Bellamy is mesmerized by this girl - the way she moves, the way she shyly tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear as she looks down at the strings, the way her fingers move over them. His voice may affect girls but Clarke Griffin affects _him_ \- just by existing as she is.

Music pours out from the way she picks at the strings, testing at first until she gets the right notes. When she sings, it sounds glorious in the quiet of the room, the way the tones of her voice flow evenly into the air. Fuck, it’s pure magic.

‘ _Words are lost. Mouths are closed. Even through the silent pause, you take it all._ ’

Bellamy swallows thickly, eyes stuck on Clarke in front of him. His fingers clutch at the soft blanket below him, desperate to ground himself. He’s half afraid to breathe in case it shatters the beauty of this moment. He had forgotten the way her voice sounded out loud, how perfect she can hit the notes.

She’s staring at the way her fingers move over the strings, not because she’s unsure of where they go because Bellamy is pretty certain that she knows it by muscle memory at this point, but because she’s shy.

He can read her like an open book in this moment. She usually doesn’t sing in front of people, her only encouragement was her dad and now that he’s gone, Bellamy imagines she doesn’t get told often enough how great she is at this. It’s almost like she’s embarrassed to be singing in front of him, like he’d think she was terrible. Not a hope of that.

‘ _Table talks. Getting through the car ride home. It could be a late night call…_ ’

Bellamy’s not ready when she looks up, meeting his eye as she sings the next line.

‘ _You take it all_.’

His stomach flips. All too easily, he thinks about when she called him from Gaia’s bathroom in the middle of the night and he answered like he was made to do it. Back when they hardly knew each other, back before he knew they were soulmates.

‘ _Anchor to hold_ ’ she continues, her voice lighting every nerve ending that Bellamy has on fire. ‘ _You leave me room for my imperfections. I’m a mess and you jump right in. If I drift in the wrong direction, you turn the tide and you calm the wind_.’

Shit. Clarke lifts and drops her voice as she pleases to deliver a cocktail of emotions, singing so purely that Bellamy is almost convinced that there’s an angel sitting right in front of him. He can’t pull his eyes away from her.

‘ _Anytime, every time I get lost - you will find me. You will find me. Anytime, every time I get lost - you will find me, you will find me, you will find me, you will find me, you will find me_.’

Bellamy’s eyes fall shut for a moment, trying not to smile at the irony. They apparently have found one another, through time and life - over and over again. _Multiple lives_.

‘ _Faint applause. Empty rooms. Even when the crowds are gone, you take it all_.’

Clarke flicks her eyes up to Bellamy once more, singing with a little more power when the lines require it.

‘ _Lines are crossed. Even when the mind’s consumed. I never mean to bruise your heart, but you take it all_.’

Bellamy wonders if she purposely chose this song because it sounds made for them, made for whatever they are. She may be just his friend out loud, but there’s something simmering under the surface - Bellamy can’t be the only one to feel it. He may have the advantage of knowing that they’re soulmates but she has to feel something - doesn’t she?

‘ _Anchor to hold_ ’ Clarke waves her voice like a puppet with strings, the ability to do what she likes with it - she has the range and the control. When she sings the chorus this time, it’s weighted with more passion and volume than the last one - allowing her voice to expand to its fullest potential.

‘ _You leave me room for my imperfections. I’m a mess and you jump right in. If I drift in the wrong direction, you turn the tide and you calm the wind. Anytime, every time I get lost - you will find me, you will find me. Anytime, every time I get lost - you will find me, you will find me, you will find me, you will find me, you will find me_.’

She lets the music drift off here, cutting the song short if Bellamy were to guess. When the last chord fades out, the vibration still thrumming through the air, the goosebumps on Bellamy’s skin are in full swing. Clarke watches him for a few seconds before he’s able to form any words, mainly because they’re lost on him.

‘Wow’ he croaks. His breath is completely gone, wedged in his lungs. ‘That…’

Clarke’s eyes are wide as she searches him, waiting to be critiqued or praised or just for his approval - like it means more to her than anything in this whole world.

‘That was incredible’ he manages to get out, his own voice shattering the delicate quiet in the room like glass. ‘You need to do that all the time.’

Clarke tucks another piece of hair behind her ear, like a nervous habit.

‘I don’t know. Who would even listen to me?’

‘I would’ he tells her all too easily. ‘Why don’t you sing in Northern Lights?’

‘What?’ She snaps her eyes to his.

‘On Wednesday nights’ he suggests, the idea forming all too quickly in his mind. This girl has talent that needs to be heard and appreciated by more than just him. ‘We could get Monty on board to play the guitar with you. Both of you could sing, like an acoustic night.’

‘Oh’ she raises her eyebrows. ‘Um, no, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m good enough, Bellamy. Besides, I…I just…’

She’s nervous. Bellamy gets that - but she needs to have more confidence in herself. She’s absolutely breathtaking when she sings. He decides to venture down a different route of encouragement.

‘Come on, please? We could use the extra business on Wednesday nights anyway, we should probably be figuring out ways to make more money. It would give you an extra night in the bar too?’

It’s not a total lie - they do need to generate more money, but Bellamy doesn’t care about that if he’s honest. He just wants Clarke to do what she loves - and this gives her the chance to do that. All she needs is a little encouragement and a stage to perform on. It’s an opportunity that she probably thought would never come her way and if he can do that for her, he will.

It seems to do the trick because he sees a smile growing on her face. If she thinks she’s helping him out, she’ll do it in a heart and a half. He knows Clarke Griffin enough by now to know that.

‘I guess I’ll talk to Monty at family night’ she shrugs. ‘See what he thinks?’

Bellamy beams at her, more than pleased with himself. This girl deserves the world and even though it might be just a small stage in the middle of his humble bar, she could find her world up there - singing and displaying her talent to everyone.

‘Thank you’ she whispers.

Bellamy’s heart stutters in his chest. _Fuck - the things she does to him._

‘Get some rest, Princess’ he winks at her, standing up from her bed. ‘God knows it will be all hours before you go to bed tomorrow with the way those lunatics party.’

‘Wait’ Clarke calls to him before he can get to the door. ‘It’s late, you should just stay.’

He was planning on retrieving his t-shirt from the radiator and driving home - the rain has stopped, the world as silent as a graveyard outside. He can’t really refuse Clarke’s request though, not when she’s looking at him like that.

‘Okay’ he nods, giving her a small smile. ‘I’ll take the couch.’

‘Don’t be an idiot’ she scoffs, throwing back the covers on the other side of the bed as she settles herself against her own pillow. ‘We’re grown adults. We can share a bed without it meaning anything.’

‘Platonic bed sharing?’ Bellamy smirks as he makes his way back to the bed, unable to refuse the invitation.

‘It can be a thing’ Clarke gives him a pointed look, one he can barely make out in the dark.

If only she knew that sharing a bed with her means something to _him_ \- that _she_ means everything to him. As he pulls the covers up over him and they settle in, Bellamy feels himself slip into a memory.

 

_Clarke is with him in their king sized bed, facing him as they lie in darkness. Bellamy can just about make out her features, watching the way her eyes dart across his face as she studies him in the night._

_‘Do you think there’s life after death?’ She whispers, finally speaking what's on her mind._

_Bellamy knows she’s had a hard day. She has just lost her mom - taken by the beautiful grace of old age. People are living longer these days with the advances of medicine - but not long enough._

_Her dad had been so upset at the funeral and Clarke had barely held it together. Bellamy had grasped her hand, running his thumb over the back of her knuckles as they lowered her mother into the ground._

_Clarke had been silent until now, despite the tears that fell from her eyes steadily throughout the day. He knew if he gave her enough time, she’d talk. He wasn’t going to press her - there’s an array of ways to deal with grief. He knows that from experience. So he settled with being there for her, watching over her and staying awake with her as long as she needed him to._

_‘What kind of life? Heaven?’ He whispers back. Thunder claps outside their window but it doesn’t startle them, like nothing can touch either of them as they lie underneath the covers with one another._

_‘No, maybe not heaven’ she mumbles. ‘Like reincarnation.’_

_‘I like to think so’ Bellamy shifts a little closer to her, placing his hand over hers on the pillow in front of her face. Her eyes are puffy from crying but Bellamy is still floored by her beauty. It knocks him for six every damn time, like he’ll never grow used to how lucky he is to have her._

_‘Do you think we’ll be together in the next life?’ Her voice wobbles when she says it and it wrenches Bellamy’s heart from its place in his chest._

_‘Yeah, baby. I do.’_

_He plays with the wedding band on her finger, clicking it against his own._

_‘How do you know?’ She asks like a child craving comfort. Bellamy leans up, pressing a kiss to her hand as he lifts it._

_‘Because no matter where we end up, I will always find you - no matter how lost you think you are.’_

_Clarke’s eyes fall shut, pushing the tears out and down her face._

_‘I can’t lose you too.’_

_He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. It makes his heart flip, no matter how many times he does it. He’d do anything right now to take the pain out of her heart._

_‘You won’t’ he whispers. ‘I want to spend eons with you, Clarke Griffin. I will find you in whatever life we end up in.’_

_‘You promise?’ She searches his eyes in the dark, her hand now resting on his jawline. He takes a breath, looking right into her soul so that she knows he’s serious._

_‘I promise.’_

 

Bellamy opens his eyes, watching Clarke in the exact same position in front of him. She’s facing him, her hand on her pillow. Her wedding band is missing though and her eyes are shut, her breathing evening out as sleep already takes her.

Looks like he kept his promise after all.

 

-

 

Family night goes off without a hitch.

Bellamy and Clarke didn’t speak about the night before, didn’t mention the fact that they had woken up in a tangled mess of limbs in the morning. Her leg had been crooked over his waist and his arm had been around her shoulders, holding her tight against his chest.

They definitely didn’t speak about it with their friends.

Raven joined them and slotted right into the group like she was always there, charming everyone with her intelligence and quick wit. Clarke spoke to Monty like she promised and he couldn’t get on board quick enough.

The next couple of days were spent promoting Wednesday night but Bellamy knew they wouldn’t draw a crowd until the following week. Monty reckons that they’ll announce it on Saturday night during the show, maybe get Clarke up to sing a song or two and then the following Wednesday will bring a bigger crowd. Word of mouth will spread and the amazing talent of Clarke Griffin will be the talk of the town.

On top of all that, Bellamy had been reading up on the research that Dr. Kane gave him and it was pretty much as she said - Clarke will start getting the flashbacks and memories too, if she lets herself fall in love with him. Her walls are up at the moment and she’s too guarded so he’s not really surprised that none have taken over her yet.

Maybe she will never fall for him, maybe she will never let herself. That’s why Bellamy decides to say nothing about it - besides, he wants it to be on her terms that she starts wanting him, not because fate tells her that she has to.

On Wednesday night, Clarke is a mess of nerves before her first performance. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a simple black t-shirt, the pink in the ends of her hair freshly dyed for her debut.

‘You’ll do brilliant’ Bellamy assures her and he has to stop himself from leaning in to give her a kiss. He has had a lot of flashbacks lately, all of them reminding him of a life where he and Clarke could kiss each other freely. It’s hard to separate it from this life sometimes.

What he does know is that he is definitely falling for that girl - there’s no use in denying it anymore, no use in fighting it. He gives himself up to the drop, jumping head first into the free fall. There’s nothing he can do to stop it, so why try?

Clarke is shaking when she sits on the stool on his stage, Monty in front of her as comfortable as anything. He’s so used to performing and Bellamy can only watch from behind the bar, hoping that some of Monty’s soothing energy will transpire into Clarke.

Northern Lights has a small crowd tonight, busier than their normal Wednesday night but quieter than their weekends. It’s mainly whoever they could reach with their promotions in such a short space of time. Like Monty said, they will have more next week. Tonight will be a nice warm up for Clarke.

Raven, Miller and Jackson are at one table and Jasper, Maya, Murphy and Emori are at the one beside them, smiles on their faces as they support their friends.

Bellamy is so proud of Clarke when she opens her mouth, that incredible voice of hers floating through the air of his bar. They start with ‘Make You Feel My Love’ by Adele and like always, her voice makes the hair on the back of Bellamy’s neck stand up. His breath is knocked from his chest once again, like every time she sings.

It must have a similar reaction with the other customers in the place because the whole bar is silent, more than Bellamy has ever heard it. They’re hooked on her, glued to her performance. Just like he knew would happen.

‘I forgot how amazing she is’ Harper says lowly beside him, her eyes stuck on his soulmate on the stage. Monty sings the second verse, his own outstanding voice filling the place. When he and Clarke sing the chorus together, they compliment each other beautifully. ‘Wow’ Harper grins, admiration in her eyes that mirrors Bellamy’s as she watches her boyfriend perform. It’s a surreal feeling.

‘Yeah’ Bellamy breathes. ‘Wow.’

They sing a total of six songs before they take a short break and all of their friends meet them at the bar, gushing about how amazing their acoustic session is going. It’s a massive success and it’s definitely drawing more money into Northern Lights. Bellamy can even afford to have Harper work with him tonight. He knows for a fact that it will only grow and he has a feeling that soon, his bar will be just as busy on Wednesday as it is on Saturday nights. It’s nice that they can both benefit from this arrangement, but all Bellamy cares about is that Clarke is happy.

Bellamy can barely get a word in as the compliments flow out around Clarke and Monty and soon, he and Harper are being pulled away to serve thirsty customers.

‘That girl is incredible’ one man tells him as he retrieves his drink from Bellamy.

‘This is a weekly thing, yeah?’ Another woman desperately asks.

Bellamy practically beams with pride, butterflies fluttering untamed around his stomach. He steals a glance at Clarke who is flushed in the cheeks from all the praise. What gets Bellamy most though is how happy she looks. She’s made for the stage and he’s so glad she has the chance to show the world her talent. It’s not something that should be contained to the walls of her apartment.

Clarke meets his eye, grinning from ear to ear and he gives her a wink - a smug smirk that is mainly formed from pride plastered all over his face.

She doesn’t look away from him until he has to serve someone else and his focus is pulled away again, but he didn’t miss the way her cheeks grew that little bit redder - like his attention is the only one she wanted in this entire room.

It’s not something she has to try very hard to hold onto. Not at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Celebratory prompts that I have written this week: a [Bellarke Marvel AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20092159) and a [Bellarke Hogwarts AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20097820).
> 
> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	13. It's Almost like We Knew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow - that finale guys. A lot of people didn't like it but I would watch it forever for that Bellarke hug. So beautiful. Gave me some inspiration for this chapter. What did you guys think?
> 
> Chapter title is from the song 'There's No Way’ by Lauv and Julia Michaels. The lyrics are very apt for this chapter.

Everyone is waiting in the bar at 10am, the agreed upon time. It’s so strange to be standing in Northern Lights at this hour, no customers around and the morning light seeping in through the windows.

The excitement is bubbling within Clarke - she hasn’t been to the beach in ages, not since she was a little girl. She can’t wait, especially considering all of her favourite people are going.

It’s Monday and it’s a rare thing for everybody to have the day off together, so going on a road trip seemed like the obvious choice. Plus, they might as well take advantage of the heatwave that has been plaguing their town for the last month.

As Clarke takes a glance around the place, everyone dressed in shorts and t-shirts, she can’t help but feel warm inside. Miller is leaning against the bar, twirling the keyring off his truck around his finger as he laughs with Jackson. Maya, Jasper, Monty and Harper are all counting the sandwiches and snacks that they’ve made for the day in a little tote bag. Emori, Raven and Murphy are at the other end of the bar, in deep discussion about sport and whichever team they think are gonna win the Super Bowl this year. They’re all one little family unit, even Raven. She might be new to everyone but it’s like she’s been here forever, sliding right into their lives.

Clarke smiles, feeling truly and utterly content. She never knew life could feel like this. Thinking back to how she felt a few weeks ago, she has come so far. She hated her career path, felt so lost with nobody in the world to call a friend and held so much resentment with her mom. All of that seems to have faded away now, changed for the better - thanks to him.

At that moment, Bellamy comes out from behind the bar carrying a box of beer. He slides it across to Miller who takes it to put it in his truck. Bellamy, on his turn to go back in for another box, catches Clarke’s eye and gives her a smirk - the one that used to annoy the living hell out of her when she first met him. Now, it sends the butterflies wild in her stomach. He’s wearing a simple white t-shirt and a grey pair of cotton shorts, but he might as well be wearing a three piece suit. He looks fucking gorgeous.

Clarke isn’t really sure when she started really feeling the attraction towards Bellamy - sure, he was always hot. That was a given. But she had tried so desperately hard to avoid feeling like she was into anyone - how did Bellamy Blake slip through the cracks? She refuses to fall for him though, it’s just a schoolgirl crush and this is the only length that she can let this go to. No further.

Still, he’s become her best friend. Everyone in this room has grown incredibly close to Clarke and she loves each of them individually - but what she has with Bellamy is on another level. It’s been three weeks since he stayed at her place and offered her the opportunity of a lifetime. On top of working here every week, she gets to own his stage and perform for everyone with Monty. Every Wednesday night brings more of a crowd to Northern Lights as word spreads about her talent, about how well Monty and Clarke sing together. It’s brought more money and business to Bellamy too so she’s proud of that - happy that she’s able to help him out.

She would do it every day for the rest of her life if she got to experience that feeling she gets every Wednesday night, looking out from the stage and meeting Bellamy’s eye from behind the bar. He smiles and nods encouragingly at her - like he’s the proudest man in the world, full of admiration and happiness for her. It makes her dizzy, makes her feel like she’s home. All nerves fades away, her hands stop shaking and she just sings - like it’s just him and her in the room, like she did for him the night in her apartment. It’s intoxicating.

‘We’re leaving in five minutes, guys!’ Bellamy announces before heading back into his hallway, eyes lingering on Clarke the entire time. He clearly finds her attractive too - and she’s secretly glad about it. The bar phone rings from the hallway and Clarke can see Bellamy checking the caller ID on his way back in, eyes sticking on it for a moment before turning away and letting it ring out.

Must be a business thing - and today is their day off. She doesn’t blame him for ignoring it.

On the same beat, her own cell rings and Clarke doesn’t react for a few seconds until she realises it’s her one. She’s forgotten what her ringtone sounds like at this point. Her heart nearly drops into her stomach when she sees ‘Mom’ as the dialler and it takes another couple of seconds before she takes action, turning on her heel and escaping through the bar for some privacy. She’s lingering by the back door in front of the stairs when she answers it, panic reeling in her mind.

‘Mom?’

‘Clarke.’

Her mom’s voice sounds foreign after a year of silence. Her heart is skipping - ever since Bellamy’s conversation with her, she has felt the anger towards her mother leak away more and more each day. The temptation is there now to still hold onto it, grasp at it’s edges so she has something solid to protect herself with - but no, she can’t do that anymore. She reminds herself of what Bellamy said and takes a breath.

‘How are you?’ It’s probably the kindest thing she’s said to her mother since her father died and it’s obvious in the way that Abby responds.

‘Oh, I’m fine’ her tone dips a little, surprise dripping from it. ‘I’m, um…are you okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m good’ Clarke tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, hoping her voice doesn’t sound as shaky as she thinks it does. ‘Is everything alright?’ She asks, wincing the second she says it. It sounds like she’s telling her mother she can only call her if something is really wrong and she doesn’t want it to be like that anymore. She wants to fix things. ‘Not that I’m not happy to hear from you or anything, it’s just…you know.’

Abby takes a few seconds to answer, probably having a little trouble adjusting to Clarke being nice to her. She instantly feels bad for it - God, she treated her so badly.

‘I was just calling because…’ her mother takes a breath, like she had a whole speech prepared but now she doesn’t want to say any of it. ‘Professor Cartwig called me.’

Clarke’s stomach flips.

_Shit._

‘She said you haven’t been attending class. That you sent some email about taking a break for personal issues but you didn’t show up for end of year exams. That means you can’t progress to the next semester, Clarke. You get that?’

‘Mom’ Clarke steels herself. ‘I’m not going back.’

‘ _What_?’ Abby breathes, like Clarke has just told her that she’s killed a bunch of people.

‘It’s just not for me’ Clarke wills herself to stay strong. ‘You always knew how I felt about it and I had been going through a really hard time but I feel so much better knowing that I’m not…’

‘Clarke, you’re throwing nearly three years of medicine down the drain. I’ve been paying for you to do this and you just leave without even telling me?’ Her mother lectures her, her voice becoming tedious to her already. _She’s not the enemy, Clarke. Keep it together._

‘Well, we weren’t exactly on speaking terms’ Clarke absentmindedly runs her finger along Bellamy’s bannister. ‘Since dad died, I’ve never felt passionate about medicine and you told me to give it a shot and just see - and I did. But I can’t…I can’t do it, mom.’

‘What does Finn think about all of this?’

Clarke almost pales at the mention of his name, feels herself close to snapping. _Don’t, Clarke._

‘We’re not together anymore’ she bites out.

‘Clarke’ her mother drags out, like it was somehow her fault. ‘So now you have no future, no boyfriend - what’s the plan, here?’

‘What, because I don’t want to do medicine, I have no future?’ She’s starting to break, letting the familiar anger rise up. ‘And as for Finn…’

‘You’re ignoring the question’ Abby cuts her off. ‘What’s the plan?’

‘I’m working in a bar’ Clarke tells her, closing her eyes because she can already see her mother’s disapproving face. It’s confirmed when she can hear her huff out a laugh on the other end of the phone.

‘A bar.’

It’s not a question.

‘And singing’ Clarke tags on.

‘And you’re going to make a living off of that?’

‘Well, no but I haven’t got it all figured out yet. I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time and I just need a little space to-’

‘For goodness sake, Clarke!’ Abby snaps, cutting her off once again. ‘You needed space after your father died, you needed space from me and now you’re needing space from medicine? Your place is gone, you realise that? This isn’t something you can just take space from and return to when you feel like it. It’s time to grow up.’

Her words ring like a slap.

‘How long do you plan on running for?’ Abby says breathlessly at the end, frustration and worry in her tone.

‘For as long as it takes’ Clarke decides, ending the call after that.

She collapses onto the stairs, her phone at her lip as she stares at the door which will lead her into the alleyway. The temptation to use it, to just run out and down the street for as long as her lungs will let her. The tears build behind her eyes and she forces herself to swallow them. Clarke had been building herself up to call her mother, explain how her life is right now and start repairing their relationship. She wanted to tell her about Bellamy, how he’s been helping her and how she finally feels like she’s on the road to something better - but that conversation came earlier than expected.

Her mother found out the wrong way and Clarke gets that she’s worried for her daughter, concerned when she doesn’t really understand everything that has happened but Clarke hasn’t been stupid - she’s been thinking about this for a long time. It’s not like she decided to quit on a whim. If she just gave her the chance to explain…

‘You okay, Princess?’ Bellamy’s voice makes Clarke jump from where she’s sitting, shooting up to face him.

He’s carrying a box of beer, just at the door of the entrance to the bar but he’s leaning against the wall. God knows how much he’s heard. He didn’t know that she quit medicine - she hasn’t had the courage to tell him. She’s terrified he’ll judge her for it, criticise her for throwing away a free education when it’s something he would have grabbed with both hands.

‘Yeah’ she stutters out, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand in the most subtle way she can manage. When she meets Bellamy’s eye, it’s obvious that he doesn’t believe her. His dark, unruly curls are drooping over his eyebrows and his beard is tightly trimmed against his face - but none of that hides his expression. It’s clear as day, written all over his face: concerned.

‘Okay’ he gives her, his voice low and husky. The others can be heard inside the bar, laughing and talking loudly. ‘Well, we’re leaving now so…’ he gestures with his head to indicate she should come back into the bar. ‘Take a second and meet us out front.’

Clarke doesn’t miss the soft, reassuring smile he gives her, pity filling his face. He can read her so well so he must know not to push her right now - must understand that if he were to question her, she’d break down. She’s grateful for the reprieve and takes a deep breath, blowing it out slowly once he’s disappeared into the bar. She wipes her eyes, fluffs up her hair a little and pockets her cell.

She had been so happy ten minutes ago - she refuses to let it her mother change that.

 

-

 

With Miller driving, Jackson takes shotgun and Bellamy slots into the back beside the window. Monty and Harper are beside him, looking like they’re completely engrossed in conversation.

Clarke, Emori and Raven are in the bed of the truck, breeze blowing in their hair as they sail through town towards the beach. Murphy takes up the rear in his 87’ red corolla with Maya and Jasper and all of their supplies - some food and snacks, beer and upon Monty’s request, the guitar.

Clarke takes a drag of her cigarette, her eyes on the back of Bellamy’s head as they drive. Through the rear window, she can see that he’s leaning his elbow out into the open air, breeze blowing his hair back like he’s taking in the scent of the ocean as they draw closer. Despite her phone call this morning, Clarke feels like every worry and problem she’s ever had is just melting away. Especially when the ocean starts appearing on the horizon.

‘Freedom!’ Raven throws her hands up in the air when she sees it.

‘Freedom, freedom’ Emori chants, throwing her head back so her long, brown hair flows down the back of the truck. Murphy beeps from behind them and the mood pretty much escalates from there.

Miller’s truck has barely skidded to a halt when the girls dive out, racing towards the water. The sand is warm under Clarke’s feet and she rids herself of her white tank top and denim shorts as she draws closer, revealing her white bikini with the black trim underneath.

The sun is burning above them, making the blue of the sky look even more vibrant. The smell of salt and utter happiness is dense in the air and there’s nobody here, meaning they get the entire beach to themselves. It’s a private beach, lost in the outskirts of town but Miller raved about it for ages, saying he used to come here with his dad when he was a kid. It certainly lives up to the stories: it’s beautiful.

Monty and Harper pass the three of them out just as they reach the water's edge and Clarke shrieks when the cold water hits her legs. She’s already up waist high before the temperature really hits her and she tenses up, wishing she eased herself in. The sun obviously hasn’t warmed it up yet.

She gets no time to adjust at all because a pair of hands comes around her bare waist, hauling her forward and into the waves. Upon resurfacing, Clarke sputters and coughs until she identifies her assailant: _one Bellamy Blake._

‘Oh, you asshole’ she gapes at him which only draws out his irritating (yet adorable) smirk.

She drops her hands into the freezing water and discharges a wave of splashes at him, causing a heated war to break out. Raven ends up on her team, dunking as many of the others as possible who all seem to take turns in heaving large amounts of water at them. Maya decides it’s an unfair team and joins the girls, only to claim victory when Emori dives on top of Bellamy just as he’s about to deliver a massive splash at Clarke.

‘Dark horse!’ Emori laughs when Bellamy rises, hair dripping with water as he tries to catch his breath.

Clarke realises her own has got caught somewhere in her chest, watching as Bellamy scrubs the water off his face with his hands, laughing at being overthrown in the battle. The way his hair is drenched and how the droplets fall down his skin is glorious, not to mention how pristine his abs are when he stands up to full height. His navy blue swim shorts stick to him, showing a faint outline of his bulge when he stands in a certain position and Clarke’s mouth goes dry.

Damn it, he looks like a fucking God.

Clarke squeezes her legs together under the water, desperate to tame the throbbing. He turns her on so much and if the way she catches his eyes drifting to her chest is any indication, she does the same to him. He gives her a wink, gaze lingering on her until his attention is pulled elsewhere - more specifically, to Jasper who has seemed to have lost his swim shorts mid battle. The entire group falls around the water laughing and Clarke shakes her head, that happy feeling bubbling inside her chest once more.

The rest of the afternoon is spent lounging around. The girls sunbathe for a bit and Clarke tries to keep the blush from her cheeks when she catches Bellamy’s eyes raking over her body. The beer is unloaded and they each have a few before munching away at the sandwiches and snacks. When the heat gets too much, they all get back into the water and float around - promising to avoid any splash wars this time.

A competitive game of soccer forms after that and Raven is kicking all of the boys asses, skillfully moving around Murphy and into their makeshift goal way too many times. Clarke even manages to slide tackle Bellamy at one point, resulting in Harper stealing the ball and scoring for their team. Clarke leaps into the air, cheering at their victory when Bellamy catches her from behind. He throws her over his shoulder as he spins her around, both of them laughing as he keeps telling her what a cheap shot it was. She’s mid-air, beaming at him when he tosses her the right way up and he’s looking at her like she put the stars in the sky.

A slight pain starts to form in the front of her head, building and building as she looks at him. Sense flies back to her all too quickly in that moment. _No_. This isn’t supposed to be real.

Where a guy stares at a girl with an intense look on his face like she’s made of everything good in the world, where people kick and frolic at the beach in movies, where you trust somebody one hundred percent not to hurt you.

Clarke has already decided that - and she’s not going to fall for Bellamy. She can’t. _Love isn’t real._

Bellamy puts her down, still smiling but Clarke just tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, praying he doesn’t notice her change in demeanour. She has to be more careful. She can't get hurt again.

In the evening, Emori and Raven return with some burgers and fries from a place around the corner and they all sit on blankets in the sand, filling their bellies with good food and beer. They all exchange stories and Clarke’s stomach starts to hurt from laughing after half an hour. She decides, besides actively trying to stop herself from getting lost in Bellamy Blake, that today has been the best day of her life.

Later, she finds herself sitting on one of the sand dunes, watching as the sun starts to drop. It sets fire to the sky, painting a mixture of orange and pastel blue across it. White clouds, darkened by the lack of sun, float around the place like giant chunks of marshmallow and evidence of a plane can be seen across the ocean in the appearance of a white streak.

Monty and Harper are building a sandcastle together, looking far too cute to be considered real. Emori, Raven and Maya are laying back on a blanket and sipping on their beers, chatting about something that Clarke can’t hear from where she is. Miller and Jackson are huddled together under one big blanket, watching the sun go down from the water's edge and Murphy and Jasper are in the ocean for a final swim before the water gets unbearably cold.

There’s a chill in the air now and Clarke is glad when Bellamy drops down beside her, his shoulder touching hers as if to warm it. He’s re-dressed in his t-shirt and shorts now and Clarke the same, both of them preparing for the day to end.

‘Hey’ he says softly, the density of his tone sending shivers through Clarke.

‘Hey’ she bumps her shoulder off of him. ‘We are probably heading home soon?’

‘Yeah, I think so. The guys still want family night tonight so I guess we’re in for a late one’ he chuckles. Clarke smiles, feeling completely content once more. God, this day couldn’t be any more perfect.

‘I had a really good day today’ she admits out loud.

‘Me too’ Bellamy agrees. ‘Feeling better after this morning?’

Clarke’s smile drops a little, a heaviness coming over her chest.

‘Sorry’ he corrects himself, shoving his hand through his curls with a look on his face that tells her he regrets asking that. ‘I didn’t mean to make you think about it.’

‘No, it’s okay’ she breathes. It’s not like she could avoid it forever - he obviously overheard at least a little bit of it. ‘It was my mom’ she shrugs one shoulder. ‘Didn’t exactly go the way I’d hoped after a year of silence.’

‘I’m sorry’ he’s staring at her, studying her face. Clarke can see it out of her peripheral vision.

‘How much of it did you hear?’ She squints as she stares out at the sunset, feeling like if she looked at him, she’d chicken out of this whole conversation.

‘Enough to know that you’ve quit school’ he lands her with that and she lets her eyes fall shut, feeling instantly guilty.

‘I should have told you’ she whispers.

‘What happened to truth time?’ He nudges her, maybe to indicate that he’s not as disappointed in her as she thinks.

‘I just thought…’ she leans back on her hands, digging her fingers into the sand below her. ‘I thought you’d be mad.’

‘What?’ Bellamy’s brow creases as he picks up a handful of sand, letting the particles fall through his fingers. Clarke finds it comforting to watch.

‘I was basically getting a free ride this entire time and I know with everything you had going on at home, you would have loved that opportunity.’

‘I wouldn’t have been mad at all’ he shakes his head.

‘Come on’ Clarke tilts her head. ‘You don’t like students even coming into Northern Lights because-’

‘Clarke’ Bellamy says with such intensity that Clarke can’t not listen. She closes her mouth as her eyes lock with his. ‘You could have told me that you quit school. I had a feeling anyway - especially after telling me about how you felt about medicine after your dad died. I knew you didn’t wanna do it.’

Clarke swallows the lump forming in her throat. He can see right through her, picks up on details that she didn’t even realise she was giving out.

‘I wouldn’t have been mad or disappointed or thought anything bad about you. I’m not the guy I was when we first met.’ He sits up a little straighter, like he’s confident in what he’s saying. ‘I thought I needed school and a different childhood to be happy’ he purses his lips a little. ‘But I don’t. Everything I’ve gone through in life has lead me to right here. Right where I’m supposed to be - so none of it matters.’

Clarke raises her eyebrows, a little stunned at his words. She didn’t realise that he had gone through a change too.

Silence sits between the two of them after that, the sound of the others laughter and conversations like a dull roar in the background. They fade out completely when Monty starts singing, the soft thrum of guitar strings wafting over to where Bellamy and Clarke are sitting.

It’s peaceful and calm - _perfect._

The colours of the sky, the music pouring over the beach, the sun setting, Bellamy sitting beside her - it’s probably the most beautiful moment in Clarke’s life to date. The sand stretches out for miles, like fields of gold. She imagines that when she dies, this is what heaven will look like.

‘Are you happy?’ Bellamy asks after a few minutes, forcing Clarke’s eyes to him once again. ‘Now, right in this moment. Are you happy?’

‘Yes’ she answers, certain and assured. His brown eyes are burning into her, igniting a feeling in her soul that she’s never felt before. Fuck, she is so happy. ‘The happiest I’ve been in a long time.’

Bellamy smiles, soft and private like it’s just for her. ‘Then that’s all that matters.’

Both of them look back out at the sunset and Clarke can’t believe how comfortable this is. He’s right - that’s all that matters. And thanks to him, she is finally happy. If she could just fix things with her mom now, everything would be great.

‘I think my mom is just worried’ Clarke sighs after a beat of silence, scrubbing a hand through her salty curls. The wind is blowing them in every direction, so they are just a tangled mess at this point. 'I should have handled it better.'

‘I’m sure it wasn’t an easy conversation to have’ Bellamy leans back on his elbows, stretching out his legs a little. Clarke joins him in that position, getting more comfortable.

‘She just doesn’t know who I am anymore. I don’t even know who I am’ Clarke huffs out a laugh that rings too false. ‘I’m not the socialite I was in high school. I’m not the girl I was when I was with Finn. So who am I?’

‘You’re Clarke’ Bellamy tells her, quick off the mark. She worries her bottom lip, shifting her head to look at him. ‘And you’re amazing. You’re kind, generous - the way you helped me out in Northern Lights without wanting anything in return, the way you brought Raven in, how you look after us all? Clarke’ he shakes his head, like he thinks it’s crazy that she can’t see it. ‘You’ve changed my life.’

Clarke can barely breathe. She had no idea that he felt like that.

‘You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met - and I know exactly who you are. Even if you don’t.’

She’s glowing bright red but hopefully Bellamy will think it’s from the sun. Her heart is pounding, his words still echoing in her ears. He thinks so much of her, believes in her - damn, how did she get so lucky to meet someone like him?

He reaches out, taking her hand from where it’s resting on the sand. Electricity flies through Clarke as he gives it a squeeze, comforting and reassuring. His eyes shift to hers, something unrecognisable flickering in them.

‘Everything will be okay’ he says softly and Clarke can feel the tears prick the back of her eyes. She feels… _relieved_. It’s like he just put her worries into a bag and set fire to them with that sentence and she’s inclined to believe him with her whole heart - absolutely, indefinitely, unquestionably. _Everything will be okay._

She'd give anything to pause time right now, to live in this moment forever. Fuck, she can't get enough of him.

‘I thought I had to find somewhere I belonged’ she manages after a beat, her voice lacking in power because the air is gone from her chest. ‘But maybe I’ve already found it.’

Bellamy smiles at her, eyes dancing. _Damn_. He’s gotten under her skin, into her veins and bones and set up roots there. He has become such an integral part of her existence and if she believed in love and soulmates and everything else she’s sworn against - she’d fully believe that she was born half in love with Bellamy Blake.

‘Me too, Princess’ his voice is throaty when it comes out, like it’s weighted with hidden emotion. ‘Me too.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> I took inspiration for this chapter based on this [gifset](https://griffndors.tumblr.com/post/163360365484/they-are-our-solid-ground-our-north-star-and-the), which talks beautifully about soulmates. So appropriate and fitting for Bellarke.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	14. Baby, Why Not Waste It on Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to all you new readers that have joined me since last week. I see you, welcome and thank you for reading. This is a big chapter and I'm a little nervous about it.
> 
> Chapter title is from the song 'Waste It On Me’ by Steve Aoki and BTS. Yes, the fic is named after this song. I also realised last week that a lot of you haven't actually seen the video that I have based this fic off of. You'll see a lot of scenes that I have described in it and it's such a good video. I always link it in the end notes so check it out if you want to see a visual of this fic.

Dance music thumps in thick beats across Northern Lights, their typical Monday night session well underway.

Bellamy is behind the bar, pouring out shots to get everyone started - not that the mood needs lifting. Everyone seems to be euphoric and completely relaxed after their day at the beach. It was just what they all needed, a chance to unwind and enjoy one another’s company.

He glances to Clarke who is engrossed in conversation with Raven as they approach the bar, her smile infectious as she giggles at something her friend is saying. They have all showered and changed into dressier clothes, desperate to get the salt and sand out of their hair. Clarke is dressed in a simple black pencil skirt and a white lace top, her skin glowing light brown from the sun exposure today. She stops Bellamy's heart every time.

He finds himself mirroring her expression, a wide smile seemingly being his default setting around this girl. She looks so much better now that the worry and sadness are gone from her expression. This morning had been hard for Clarke and he knows her mother is a difficult subject for her, so he was glad to hear that despite their phone call, she’s actually happy. To hear that she’s finally found somewhere that she belongs - God, it just lit Bellamy up inside.

He was surprised to find out that she's quit school but it hurt him worse than anything to find out that she's been hiding it from him in case he'd be mad. Maybe the old Bellamy would have scoffed at some rich girl giving up her shot at a free education - but he knows Clarke. He understands her, knows her reasoning behind it. He meant what he said to her earlier - she's changed him. Everything isn't as black and white as it seems and his negative thoughts about those subjects are just a reflection of his own bitterness. An education isn't something he cares about anymore, he's realised life is bigger than all of that.

Bellamy steals another look at Clarke who catches his eye at the same time, smiling the most genuine smile that he's ever seen. Life is definitely bigger than any of his old worries and problems. They all seem so trivial now. _She's_ his life - and she's more important than anything.

The place is cloaked in darkness with zaps of colourful lights bouncing off the walls. Monty and Jasper are fiddling around with the music while the others take their shot, wincing at the aftertaste.

Raven lets out a cheer after slapping her glass down onto the bar top and the others follow suit, all of them disappearing back onto the dance floor. Murphy twirls Emori around, the look of pure adoration in his eyes as they dance. Miller and Jackson approach Monty and Jasper, probably requesting a song while Clarke takes a seat in front of Bellamy, her eyes following Harper, Raven and Maya as they break into silly dancing.

‘I’m glad she’s getting on with everyone’ Clarke smiles as she watches Raven, talking loudly over the music. Bellamy leans over the bar, his forearms pressed against the marble top as his eyes drift to the brunette.

‘She’s a nice girl’ Bellamy nods, earning Clarke’s sharp gaze in a quick snap of her head. Their eyes connect for a few beats while he tries to read what she’s thinking.

‘Oh’ she swallows. ‘Interested, Mr. Blake?’

Bellamy doesn’t miss the way Clarke shoves her eyes away just as quick, maybe like his answer would be less painful if she wasn’t watching him. He tries to bite back his smirk, hold down his delight at the fact that she’s obviously jealous. He couldn’t ignore the way she looked at him today, ran her eyes over his body - _she wants him_. Not the way he wants her to, not the way he wants her, but she’s attracted to him at the very least and Bellamy will take what he can get.

The air has grown thick between them and he knows Clarke is trying very hard to seem unbothered by the fact that Bellamy might be into Raven. It’s cute.

‘No’ Bellamy decides, keeping his stare on Clarke. ‘Not interested in _her_.’

Clarke whips her head back around, locking eyes with him once more.

‘Clarke, come on!’ Raven calls her over the music, hand held out for her to come and join them in their dance off. Clarke slips off the stool, never breaking eye contact with Bellamy until she has to turn around. She was definitely biting back a smirk of her own, perhaps trying to figure out if he meant what she thinks he meant. He definitely did.

Bellamy shakes his head, a smug grin stuck on his expression. He’s openly flirting with her now - and he realises far too quickly that it’s dangerous territory. _Fuck._ He scrubs a hand over his face, desperate to school his impulses. _Stop, Bellamy._

Clarke is just starting to open herself up. She’s finally happy, found a place where she can earn some money while she figures out her next move while getting to sing on his stage. He shouldn’t ruin that, can’t take that away from her. If they make it more and it ruins their friendship, she'll be right back to square one. She'll stop hanging around with them, stop working here and she'll be even worse off than when Finn left her.

On top of all of that, Clarke has made it abundantly clear that she thinks love is a pile of crap, that she’s not interested in pursuing anything. Bellamy could be making a rod for his own back by letting his feelings run away with him - he doesn’t want her to regret anything, to be forced into figuring things out sooner than she's ready to.

Still, how long can he ignore the obvious? They’re meant to be - soulmates, lovers. Destined to spend eternity together, life after life. Bellamy wants Clarke to realise it on her own without his influence but how long can he fight the pull?

‘Hey’ Jackson breaks him out of his train of thought.

‘Hey, man’ Bellamy tries to hide his surprise, prays that he hasn’t been caught staring at Clarke. ‘Another drink?’

‘Actually’ Jackson sneaks a peak over his shoulder before speaking, leaning across the bar so as to be heard when he talks in a low voice. ‘I was just wondering if everything went okay? With Dr. Kane?’

‘Oh’ Bellamy blinks. ‘Yeah, everything’s fine. Nothing to worry about.’

‘No more headaches?’

‘No’ Bellamy shakes his head. _Not exactly._

‘Great’ Jackson beams, satisfied with that. ‘I’m glad nothing is wrong.’

‘No’ Bellamy lets his eyes drift to Clarke once more, who has her head tossed back as she laughs at something Maya has said. ‘Nothing’s wrong at all.’

The longer the night goes on, the more the atmosphere improves even further if that's possible. Everyone is laughing, elated and happy as they dance and drink. Bellamy even gets pulled out for a dance or two, something he’s sworn against too many times. Still, it makes Clarke happy so he does it without complaint.

His concerns from earlier seem to be shot to hell when he realises that Clarke is going out of her way to touch him, shoving his arm playfully and openly flirting with him during conversations. She doesn’t even try to hide the way she looks at him, affection and want sparkling in her eyes. It sends a sweep of goosebumps over his arms, makes the hair stand up on the back of his neck. There’s definitely a shift in their dynamic and Bellamy feels its burn, feels the desire pooling in the depths of his body. He wants her - and he thinks she wants him. Suddenly, nothing else matters.

It might complicate things, it might cause Clarke to pull away - but on the other hand, it might bring everything he’s waiting for. Clarke might start liking him, falling for him. There’s a possibility that she’ll never let herself, constantly fight the free fall and put up her walls so that it’s just this raw, physical attraction between the two of them for the rest of this life.

In this moment and time, Bellamy will take that happily. Maybe he’s not thinking straight, not being patient enough but it seems today's euphoria is taking over. He’s high on it and it causes him to make a rash decision.

He’s leaning against the bar, his friends piled onto the dance floor as they get lost in the music. A familiar song is bursting through the speakers and Bellamy can’t help but let it resonate with him, let it make him brave. The irony of the lyrics isn’t lost on him and he figures it’s now or never.

Clarke has her phone out, scrolling as she holds one finger up to Harper, like she’s trying to show her something but can't find it. Harper is getting distracted by Monty, who is trying to communicate with her over the loud boom of the music (and failing miserably at it.) Harper squeezes Clarke’s arm as if to tell her she’ll just be a minute and takes off up the steps to reach her boyfriend. Clarke waves her off, still searching for something on her phone - probably to have it ready for her when Harper comes back.

Bellamy uses the opportunity, taking out his own phone and typing out a quick message to Clarke. His heart is racing - this could go very wrong but he tries not to think about it. His chest is about to give in when he hits send, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. _Shit_.

It chimes to her phone in succession with the chorus of the song, the lyrics exact and obvious in the text.

 

**‘So if love is nothing more than just a waste of your time,**

**Waste it on me.’**

 

The glowing screen on Clarke’s face illuminates her expression as she reads it and Bellamy’s heart has jumped into his mouth, eyes stuck on her until she looks up and across at him. He worries that she'll take it like he means it, that he _does_ want her to take a chance on him. To give him whatever love she has. He hopes she'll take it the other way, in a more casual 'lets just hookup' kind of way. That might be easier for her. Her smile is all the confirmation he needs.

He turns on his heel, rounding the bar only to see her walking in his direction through the crowd of their friends. Nobody even misses them slipping out.

_Fuck, this is happening._

He’s climbing his stairs quickly when she comes out through the bar door and he’s barely unlocked the door to his apartment when Clarke reaches him.

He spins around just in time for her lips to connect with his, pushing him backwards against his door and into his apartment. The music is muted up here, the vibrations travelling up through the floorboards and he’s fucking glad of it - he can’t imagine this will be a quiet adventure.

His own hands skate up, curling into her hair as if to hold her there - like she’d disappear and this isn’t happening. The kiss is invigorating and electric enough to tell him this isn’t a flashback though - real time Clarke is kissing real time him. Finally. It’s everything like he thought it would be.

‘Bellamy’ she whispers between them in their break for air, giving him time to slam the door shut with his foot.

‘You sure about this, Princess?’ He asks huskily, his voice so low that it vibrates between them. She answers him with her fingers fumbling against the belt on his jeans, desperate to get it opened. His mouth crashes back on hers, intoxicated by her. He can taste the remnants of salt from today on her skin, especially when he starts sucking sweet kisses down her neck.

_Fuck, this is actually happening._

It earns him a soft whine from her lips. He runs his hands down to her waist, lifting her lace top over her head in one swift movement. She responds by tearing off his t-shirt and then wastes no time in landing her mouth back on his, letting him taste the alcohol off her lips. A thought hits him then - maybe he shouldn't be doing this when she’s drunk. Maybe he’s taking advantage.

He darts back from her, leaving her topless and confused in the darkness of his apartment.

‘What are you doing?’ She asks breathlessly.

Her breasts rise and fall with her chest, trapped inside her white bra and Bellamy holds his hand against his mouth, forcing his eyes to divert away from her. She looks fucking unreal, her tight black pencil skirt outlining her phenomenal figure. Her blonde hair is tousled and she already looks fucked, lips swollen from their kisses.

‘Just…’ he shakes his head. ‘You’ve been drinking and I’m sober. I just don’t want to be overstepping or forcing you to…’

Her arms come around the back of his neck and she trails slow, wet kisses around his collarbone.

‘You don’t always have to be so decent’ she murmurs and Bellamy can’t help the groan that falls off his lips. He closes his eyes as she licks down his torso, teasing him slowly as she outlines his abs with her fingers. Her hands follow the V on his abdomen until she reaches his belt, undoing it the rest of the way.

Bellamy’s head is spinning like he’s had ten drinks and his breathing is coming in shallow bursts. _Fuck_. That’s the only word he can think of. _Fuck_.

When she gets him out, he’s already hard and throbbing. One quick swipe of her tongue against him and he’s a goner. All rational thought and worry are gone out the window and he just gives up, letting her have him as she pleases.

‘Fuck, Clarke.’

She hums around his cock and something primal burns within Bellamy in that moment. She’s on his knees for him looking hot as hell, taking as much of him as she can into her pretty mouth. He can’t take it anymore - he pulls back, earning him a confused stare from Clarke in the muted darkness. He kicks off his jeans as she stands up and he barely gives her a second before he’s pushing her down onto the couch. He can’t even wait to make it to the bed with her.

‘Shit’ she moans and Bellamy slots himself between her, bending her legs and pushing her skirt up around her thighs because he has no time to remove it. He slips his fingers against her, a glint in his eye that she catches when he realises she’s wearing no underwear.

‘Dirty girl’ he rumbles and she keens against him, desperate for more. She’s soaked, dripping around his fingers as he rubs against her.

‘More’ she begs, her voice high pitched and gasping. ‘Please, Bellamy.’

‘You want me, Princess?’ He growls against her ear, pleased when his low voice has the desired effect. She bucks against his hand as she babbles out a desperate ‘yes’, her fingers digging into his arms as if to ground herself. Through the artificial light creeping in from his windows, Bellamy can just about make out the blush on her skin.

He sinks his head down to her chest, pulling her bra down and taking a nipple between his teeth. Clarke practically shouts and he grins, delighted at how responsive she is. He bets that he could just make her come from just playing with her tits, something he promises to figure out later. For now, he continues tracing patterns over her clit, alternating between slipping two fingers inside of her and teasing out the nub.

Clarke’s breath increases the closer she gets and Bellamy can’t pull his gaze away from her. Between the attention he’s giving to her tits and her clit, Clarke reaches her first orgasm of the night. She arches off the couch as she comes, her breath catching in her throat at its peak. She’s fucking incredible.

‘That feel good, baby?’

The term of endearment slips out unheeded but Clarke either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, nodding in response with a lazy smile on her face. Bellamy leans down to kiss her again, relishing in the opportunity. She only takes a minute of kissing before she’s reaching between them, grabbing his hard cock between her fingers and guiding him to her opening.

‘We’re good to go without a condom, right?’ She pants as the head of his cock rubs against her sensitive clit. Bellamy makes a noise of agreement because he doesn’t think he has it in him anymore to form words. She nods like she’s agreeing too, silently telling him that she’s also clean and on some kind of birth control.

Bellamy misses the next few seconds in his rush to fuck her, only coming back to himself when he feels the slick squeeze of her walls tightening around him as he enters her.

‘Fuck, you’re big’ Clarke tugs at his curls, encouraging him to keep going like the stretch feels good. ‘Fuck, Bellamy.’

Bellamy moans loudly, building up a steady pace as he rocks into her. He’s rewarded by encouraging sounds from Clarke, soft whimpers as he takes the lead. He switches between slow and fast, figuring out exactly what feels good for her and exactly what she likes - almost like re-learning a dance that they’ve done before. They slot together perfectly, literally made for one another. It just feels right - better than anyone else has before. Bellamy is sure that even if he didn’t know they were soulmates, he’d figure it out pretty quickly after fucking her.

‘You’re so fucking sexy, Clarke’ he breathes, followed by a string of dirty sentences that just seem to make her volume increase. She likes it, likes his voice telling her how hot she is and how good she feels. She likes it even more when he describes what he wants to do to her, how he promises to fuck her everywhere - in his bed, on the balcony, over his bar.

‘Yes’ she agrees, voice shot to hell as he slams into her. The couch is moving underneath them, shifting against his wooden floors enough to mark them. Sweat is starting to trickle down his back and Clarke’s eyes are glossed over in pleasure, gasping as he makes her reach for another orgasm.

It comes slower than the first but when it hits, it’s way more intense. Clarke screams out his name as it bursts through her and Bellamy can’t hold back anymore, groaning deeply against her neck as he comes. Sex with Clarke Griffin is something else.

The two of them pant against one another as they come down, the music from below them becoming audible again. It’s like he drowned it out but only for it, he’s sure his whole bar would have heard them.

Bellamy’s pulse is thrumming as he eases off her, feeling completely spent. He should be ecstatic that he finally got to sleep with Clarke, had convinced himself that it would be enough if he just got a taste - but it’s not. As he watches her sit up, her curly locks messy from their antics, she looks more beautiful than ever. He needs all of her - he needs to tell her that he’s fallen in love with her and he needs to hear her say it back.

She’s an open sink with no plug - he could pour himself into her time and time again and nothing would ever be enough. Maybe it’s why fate gave them so much time - so many lives where they are destined to be together. Maybe fate knows that multiple lifetimes isn’t enough of Clarke Griffin, never mind just this one.

‘You okay?’ Clarke asks lightly as she sits beside him, her bare shoulder bumping against his own. Bellamy meets her eye and a shiver shoots down his spine. He opens his mouth to tell her, to say that he loves her - but he realises how bizarre it would sound. They’ve only become close friends recently, only slept together once and now he’s about to declare his undying love to a girl who doesn’t believe in it.

He can’t.

‘Yeah’ he settles with saying, forcing his mouth to curve into a smug grin. ‘I’m tired now.’

Clarke giggles, getting up to fetch her discarded top from the floor. ‘Me too.’

‘You can stay’ Bellamy hears himself say, not ready for her to leave yet. Clarke is turning her top the right way but stops mid-action, cocking her head at him.

‘What about the others? They’re going to notice if neither of us reappear.’

‘I’ll take care of them’ Bellamy stands, finding his own clothes around his apartment. ‘Get into bed, I’ll be there in a minute.’

He half considers the request being too intimate - asking her to spend the night. Clarke probably wanted this to be a quick fuck, nothing serious. Maybe she wanted to go home right after it - but she doesn’t seem to notice anything, doesn’t seem to realise that they’re crossing some invisible intimacy line. Bellamy is thinking too much into everything.

He doesn’t spend long downstairs. He tells their friends that Clarke had a little too much and has gotten a cab home and he’s feeling tired after their long day so he’s going to bed. He asks Murphy, who seems to be the most sober out of all of them, to just lock up when they’re done and leave the keys under the bar. Then he practically sprints back up the stairs, eager to get back to Clarke.

She’s snuggled right into his bed when he gets there, already asleep if her breathing is anything to go by. Bellamy lifts the covers once he’s stripped down to his boxers, sliding in beside her. She’s warm when he curls his hands around her body, his heart pounding when he realises that she’s borrowed a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt from his drawer.

Part of him has turned to mush, loving that she’s beside him in his clothes. The other part of him is panicking - had she routed in his bedside locker for clothes, she would have came across the research papers on soulmates that Dr. Kane had given him.

He desperately wants Clarke to figure it out - but he wants her to do it by herself. Not because he forced her into it. Maybe the time will never come, she might never let herself fall in love with Bellamy.

Or worse, she might let herself fall in love with someone else.

Actually, Bellamy isn’t sure which is worse and those thoughts, mixed in with the memories of the beach today and sleeping with Clarke, swirl around in his mind. He’s still thinking about everything when he hears the music die out downstairs, still awake when he hears Murphy close the alley door behind him. Bellamy spoons closer with Clarke, inhaling her scent as she leans back into him.

He should feel so happy in this moment, so content, but all he feels is confused and worried. Worried that this might never be a reality for him. Worried that this is all he’ll get.

The bar phone rings downstairs, cutting into the silence sharply and Bellamy half sits up. He’s programmed to answer that phone every time it rings, mainly because it’s usually Octavia. She never rings his cell and Bellamy realises she probably doesn’t even have his number - but she has the one for Northern Lights. It keeps ringing as Bellamy forces himself to lie back down, making Clarke shift a little to get comfortable again.

He’s been ignoring Octavia’s calls ever since Clarke made him realise that he deserves more than this - more than an unsteady, unhealthy relationship with her. If it is Octavia - which given the time of night that she’s calling, it is - it’s the second time she’s called today. It was unusual to see her name coming up on the phone before they left for the beach but he refused to answer it.

The only reason her calls have increased is because Bellamy isn’t taking them and she thinks something is wrong. He’s done having a relationship with her over silent phone calls.

The ringing finally stops and Bellamy lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Everything seemed so clear earlier but on top of this crap with Octavia too, he realises he has no idea what he’s doing.

There’s no plans here, nothing.

Clarke hums contently in her sleep and Bellamy squeezes her closer, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her shoulder. He eventually falls asleep, asking fate over and over to just let things work out.

He has to believe it will, he has to have hope.

 

-

 

Bellamy is sitting on his couch, trying to add up numbers on the page in front of him. His eyes are strained, probably because he hadn’t realised how dark it had gotten outside.

Glancing at the clock, he notes that it’s after 10pm. Leaning back, he groans with tiredness. Thursday’s are never busy and he had a lot of catching up to do with the business, so Clarke told him to take the night off and she’d work for him by herself. He was reluctant to do it but Clarke Griffin is nothing if not persistent. _Stubborn Princess._

He flops his pen down on the coffee table, tangling his fingers through his curls as he yawns. He’s been at it for hours now and he considers calling it a night. Maybe he’ll go down and chat with Clarke for a bit, although he’ll never be able to stay idle. He’ll end up working and even though it’s his bar, Clarke will chastise him for it and lecture him about ‘nights off’. He smirks, amused by her.

When he woke up on Tuesday morning, it was to Clarke sucking him off beneath the covers. He got her off twice with his own mouth after that and so has become routine.

They haven’t spoken about what this thing is between the two of them but all Bellamy knows is that Clarke has barely been back to her apartment since Monday. At every given chance, they’re necking like two horny teenagers who can’t get enough of one another.

After her performance on Wednesday night, Bellamy had led her into the bathrooms and fucked her against his sink, one hand muffling her mouth because she gets so damn loud. Bellamy only pretends to complain though - he loves making her feel like that, loves getting her so lost in her pleasure that she doesn’t care who hears them.

It’s a little fun to be sneaking around their friends like this. No point in involving them in their sex life when Bellamy or Clarke have no idea what they are. He hasn’t let himself think about those worries since their first night together and instead, just tries to pretend like they don’t exist. He curls up next to her every night, trying extremely hard to be content with this casual thing between them. He's in a state of this constant back and forth - of being happy to just get a piece of this magnificent girl and then becoming stressed because he needs more - needs the connection that they've had in previous lives.

His flashbacks are happening every day, sometimes brought on from just a simple look from Clarke. It flicks in and out, her smile in this life fading into a smile from one before. So far, he's experienced two previous lives with her. In one, they're young and wealthy and seem to live in a big city. In the other, they seem to be in a hotter country like Australia, living a very peaceful existence. He sees that life often, sees their two dogs and their wedding rings and he yearns for it in this one.

He'll just have to wait and see what happens - wait and see if she lets him in. He'll keep fucking her senseless for the rest of this life, if that's what he's destined to do.

He’s just thinking of what way he’s going to fuck her tonight - maybe he’ll tease her out longer than usual, see how far he can get her until she’s at breaking point - when the girl herself bursts in through his apartment door.

‘Bellamy’ Clarke breathes as he jolts around on the couch to look at her. Her eyes are wide with emergency, a little sympathy there too. He stands, his heart already racing because shit…

‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s Octavia’ Clarke reveals and Bellamy’s ears ring. His mouth dries up completely and he can’t hear his heart anymore. ‘She’s here.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	15. Lost Without You Leading Me Astray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Fade’ by Lewis Capaldi.
> 
> I realised last week that over 300 of you have subscribed to this fic. That means, over 300 of you get notified when I update a new chapter and over 300 of you read this regularly. That makes my head spin - thank you all so much for your time. You amazing souls. _Thank you._

‘Here you go, Mr. Lemkin’ Clarke smiles, placing a fresh drink in front of one of Bellamy’s regulars.

He’s a nice man, kind. Harper told her that he lost his daughter a while back and Clarke already has a soft spot for the man. When she has a spare minute, she enjoys listening to his stories about Reese and how clever she was.

‘Thank you, Clarke’ he gives her a small smile. ‘Bellamy has picked a good one.’

Clarke blushes instantly, heat rising to her cheeks as soon as the words have left his mouth. Maybe he means that Bellamy has chosen a good employee but she feels like he meant it as something more intimate.

It’s not like Clarke hasn’t thought about it. This thing between her and Bellamy has been growing for a while, blossoming into something she can’t seem to control.

He had texted her on Monday night while they were letting loose, the song he referenced playing through the speakers as she read it. Her heart came up into her throat, the possibilities of what he meant racing through her mind. When she met his eyes however, the mischievous spark in them confirmed it was fun he was after - acting on the obvious fire that had been lighting between them all day long.

That's all she can allow it to be.

Sex with Bellamy Blake is everything she thought it would be, everything she let herself imagine when she was alone in her apartment at night with her fingers between her legs. He’s the perfect mixture of rough and gentle, pulling sounds from her that she didn’t know existed. He enjoys the challenge of making her come, seeing how many times he can do it before exhaustion wins out.

Clarke has never had that before and they’ve only been having sex for four days.

She smiles as she wipes down the counter, biting her bottom lip as she thinks about how good he is - about what’s waiting for her upstairs later.

She tugs sharply on her black skirt, like she’s trying to compose herself even further. She had worn it to look professional for the first time behind the bar on her own, paired with a white shirt tucked into it but now it just feels like a hindrance. She wants to be rid of all her clothes, in bed with Bellamy while he takes her to high heaven.

When she told Bellamy that Finn never bothered to make her come, never cared if she got anything out of sex as long as he did, it just seemed to make Bellamy more determined to make her feel good. He had raised his eyebrows in response, grumbling out a comment about how he wished he got an extra punch in with him that night at The Rig. Then he proceeded to fuck Clarke into oblivion until the both of them were a mess of sweat, euphoria and the best kind of tired.

The door opening makes Clarke snap out of her thoughts and pay attention to the girl who walks through it.

New customers on a Thursday night are rare, especially someone so young. Her hair flows down her back like black ink off a tilted page, so silky that Clarke can almost count each strand. The girl has a motorcycle helmet under her right arm and a look of arrogance more than confidence in her expression as she scans the place.

Clarke’s walls are immediately up, although she can’t tell why.

‘Hi, welcome to Northern Lights’ Clarke tries to smile as the girl approaches the bar.

Finally, the strangers eyes lock on Clarke’s as if she’s just noticing her presence. She smiles somewhat falsely, flicking her hair back over her shoulder.

‘And you are?’

Clarke stops wiping the bar, pausing as she tries to figure out if this girl is being for real or not. She’s got an evident attitude problem. Her light eyes pierce Clarke but there’s something so familiar about her, about her sharp jawline and the way her intense glare makes Clarke want to rise up and challenge her.

‘Clarke’ she answers tersely. ‘Can I get you anything?’

The girl slots herself onto the stool in front of Clarke, popping her bike helmet down beside her. Her black leather jacket suits her badass persona and Clarke finds herself hoping that she’s looking for directions rather than a drink. She’s not really a person that Clarke wants to be serving all night.

‘Yeah’ the girl smirks. ‘My brother. Is he here?’

Clarke’s heart stops in her chest.

Her eyes lift slowly to the girl in front of her and she chastises herself for being so stupid. It’s obvious now that she can place her - _this is Octavia_.

Her mind starts to race, trying to figure out what Bellamy would want her to say here, what she should do. Clarke had made Bellamy take the night off to catch up on the business side of the bar and he hasn’t emerged from his apartment since, up to his eyes in numbers and correspondence. He is definitely here, though.

‘I’m not sure’ Clarke lies but it comes out confidently. ‘Let me check.’

Octavia raises her brows, tonguing the inside of her lip in annoyance like this inconveniences her, like Bellamy should already be here waiting for her. A bit much to expect from him when she hasn’t seen her brother in two years.

Clarke casually walks out the door into the hallway and up the stairs, waiting until she is out of sight of the bar door before she sprints.

Her heart is pounding, blood rushing in her ears because this isn’t good for him. How is Bellamy gonna feel, knowing his sister is right downstairs when his guilt and loneliness for her has been eating him alive all this time?

Clarke reaches the top step and pauses, wondering if it’s the best thing for him. She’s worried about him - how will he take this? He’s been so happy and carefree and Clarke is about to shatter that.

She can’t not tell him, though. His sister is here, whether Clarke likes it or not. Her protectiveness will have to do from a distance because she can’t stop him seeing her - all she can do is be there for him.

She bursts in his apartment door from adrenaline, out of breath as Bellamy spins around on the couch.

‘Bellamy.’

His apartment is a muted shade of dark, the only light coming from the single lamp in the corner of the room. He should have the main light on when working at this time of night because his eyes look tired now, strained after spending so long looking at spreadsheets in poor light. His black curls flop over his eyebrows and he looks good in his blue henley, his attractiveness standing out a mile every time she lays eyes on him.

‘What’s wrong?’ He stands up to face her, sensing the urgency in Clarke’s energy. She has to take a breath, wishing she was giving him more time to prepare for this.

‘It’s Octavia’ she states, those two words already enough to make his complexion pale. ‘She’s here.’

Bellamy grabs the edge of the couch as he absorbs that and Clarke comes the full way in, closing the door behind her quickly.

‘Hey’ she rushes out as she goes for him, watching the way he’s stumbling back, the way his eyes have glassed over. ‘Hey, it’s okay.’

His breath is catching in his chest and she knows he’s finding it hard to take - his sister who he thinks hates him is right downstairs, after ignoring him for two years, after cutting off communication with him for punishment. Punishment for something that Bellamy couldn’t help. She left him alone in his grief, blamed him for doing the best he could for her. And now she’s hurting him again.

‘Bellamy’ Clarke cups his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. His brown eyes are shiny with tears and his bottom lip is quivering. This is overwhelming him and it breaks her.

She leans in and presses a soft kiss to his lips, wishing it was enough to erase the hurt in his chest right now. He’s still breathing heavily when she pulls back but his hands have curled around her wrists, almost like he’s securing them to his face.

‘I _can’t_ ’ he manages, coming out in gasps. ‘I can’t. Not right now.’

‘Hey, I’ll take care of it, okay? I got this’ Clarke assures him. Hell, she’ll physically remove Octavia herself if she has to. ‘Stay here.’

He nods quickly in her grasp, like he’s clinging to the reassurance.

Clarke goes to leave but Bellamy tucks his arm around her waist and _fuck_ , Clarke melts inside. He needs her and the motion makes her want to cry. She forces her face to remain steady as she lets him pull her against him, enveloping her in a hug that he more than needs right now. It’s like he’s drawing strength from her. It makes Clarke feel even more protective, more desperate to fix this for him.

She won’t let him get hurt and she’ll shield him for as long as he needs to get himself ready to face his sister again. She's invested now, caught up in his demons as much as he is.

She presses a soft kiss to his neck and he shudders out a breath. His scent surrounds her and Clarke realises that maybe she draws strength from him too.

‘I’ll be back soon’ she promises, pulling back to check his condition. His eyes are heavy with emotion and vulnerability but his breathing is a little calmer.

Satisfied with that much, Clarke returns back downstairs but her heart is splintering inside her chest. She wants nothing more than to stay up there with Bellamy, pull him into her arms and hold him until all the hurt has seeped out of his very being.

Octavia is still there when she returns, a glass of whiskey in front of her now because she has clearly helped herself. The motion pisses Clarke right off, escalating her anger. This might be her brother’s bar but she doesn’t have a relationship with him - has no right to help herself to anything in his life.

Clarke takes a breath before whipping the glass out from under Octavia’s nose, calmly tossing it into the sink like the entire thing doesn’t bother her. If she wants a drink, she can pay for it and stay on her side of the bar.

Octavia doesn’t protest, just eyes Clarke warily like she interests her.

‘So, where is he?’

‘Busy’ is all Clarke gives her.

Octavia’s brows knitting together confirms what Clarke knew all along - she expected Bellamy to be tripping over himself to get down here. Maybe weeks ago, he would have. Before Clarke came and made him realise he deserved more, that he was worth more.

He’s been opening up lately about his sister, feeding Clarke snippets of their lives in dribs and drabs. She knows enough to understand that Bellamy could have killed himself with the stress he was under as a child, trying to provide and care for Octavia. Only to have it thrown back in his face.

‘He seems to be busy a lot lately’ Octavia sighs like she’s bored. ‘Hasn’t been answering my phone calls.’

Clarke pretends to be occupied by tidying her work space but a glance at Octavia’s makes her realise why she has turned up out of the blue. Bellamy has been ignoring her.

Clarke feigns disinterest but really, it surprises her. Good on him - he doesn’t need to be answering her check in’s, especially not when she isn’t speaking to him on the other end. This girl has strung him out far enough.

As much as Octavia is trying not to give a crap, Clarke can detect undertones of worry. This break in behaviour is concerning her and she doesn’t know how to act, how to bridge this gap that is forming between the Blake siblings indefinitely. Maybe she realises that Bellamy has finally had enough.

‘Whatever. I can wait’ Octavia breathes out the words, eyeing a bunch of advertisement brochures on the bar top. They’re for Wednesday nights when Clarke and Monty are singing and she can see Octavia’s knowing grin as she picks one up, flicking it over as she scans it. ‘How did you score this one?’

‘What?’ Clarke says as she waves goodbye to Mr. Lemkin, trying to keep her attention away from Octavia altogether if she can help it. She’s burning her brain cells trying to figure out a way to make her leave.

‘This’ Octavia cocks the brochure at her. ‘It is you, right? Clarke Griffin?’

Another customer waves goodbye while Clarke scans the slip of coloured card in Octavia’s hand. It has hers and Monty’s names in capital letters, followed by the information about their acoustic night on Wednesday’s.

‘Yeah, it’s me’ she shrugs. Clarke knows she’s being cold with her, as if Octavia has personally wronged her. Maybe she has - Bellamy is her priority here and she hates that anyone could hurt him like this.

‘It took Miller ages to convince Bellamy to let him play on Saturday nights’ Octavia tosses the brochure across the bar, watching it slip right off and onto the floor in front of Clarke’s feet. She is really pissing her off. ‘So how did you manage to convince him?’

‘It was his idea, actually’ Clarke picks up the brochure, gritting her teeth as she tries to keep her cool. The bar is empty now except for his sister and she wishes she would just leave so Clarke can close the place early and take care of Bellamy.

‘He never mentioned you in his letters’ Octavia drawls. ‘Although I haven’t received any in months.’

Clarke grips the side of the bar, unaware that Bellamy tried that much with her. He must have updated his sister through any means necessary, desperate to rebuild a connection with her. Trailed after her like he had some penance to do, something to make up for. And Octavia just let him.

‘What do you want, Octavia?’ Clarke finally snaps, letting the hot burn of anger wash over her. Octavia narrows her eyes at her.

‘I want my brother.’

‘Yeah well, he’s not coming down’ Clarke flaps her arms against her sides, her mouth in a tight line. ‘How’s that?’

‘What are you? His advocator?’ Octavia bites out. Clarke has to fight the urge to be a smart ass, to be petty and snap out a sarcastic reply.

‘I’m his friend’ she retorts, although that seems a soft term for them. ‘And you need to leave. Now.’

‘What’s wrong, Bell?’ Octavia yells, her voice carrying through the door behind Clarke and up the stairs. ‘Afraid to face me?’

‘I’m not asking you, Octavia. I’m telling you. _Get out_ ’ Clarke steps forward, her pulse quickening with the adrenaline.

‘Fuck you!’ Octavia stands but she has no intention of leaving, she just looks like she’s getting her back up. ‘This is none of your business.’

‘You have no right to summon him down here after the way you’ve treated him’ Clarke straightens her spine, her tone as sharp as her posture.

Octavia scoffs, her lips quirking up into an amused grin. ‘What, you think you know what I’ve been through because Bell has told you his version of me? How I’ve ignored him because he left me with our sick mother, left me to do it all? I sacrificed everything, I had to deal with it on my own. I didn’t have a stable home life while he was gone. I suffered because…’

‘ _My God_!’ Clarke shouts hotly, the residue echo hanging in the air. She huffs out a false laugh, shaking her head in exasperation. ‘Do you even hear yourself? How many times a day do you use the word ‘I’?’

Octavia’s mouth snaps closed, her jaw setting in an almost identical way to Bellamy’s.

‘Bellamy sacrificed his entire life for you and your mom. He raised you when he was just a kid himself - got you to school on time, fed you, clothed you, took you to the hospital. On top of caring for your mom.’

Clarke’s breathing is ragged and she’s on fire with anger, disbelief at the pure selfishness of the girl in front of her. Does she even think about Bellamy’s life at all?

‘He left to serve, to provide finance for both of you - it’s not his fault that your mom got sick. And it’s certainly not his fault that you didn’t tell him.’

Octavia, for the first time all night, breaks eye contact with Clarke. She stares at the floor, looking less like the badass that first came into the bar and more like a lost little girl who’s getting scolded for bad behaviour.

‘I’m sure it was really hard, caring for your mom like that. But you and I both know that if you had of told Bellamy, he would have been on the first flight home. He’s had a shitty childhood, but he would probably do it all again - _for you_.’

Octavia bites her bottom lip, like she’s trying to remain stoic. Clarke has no intention of letting up because fuck this - she needs a reality check.

‘He was there for you your whole life, but when your mom died and he needed you, you left him. Blamed him. Punished him for years.’ Clarke pauses, letting the gravity of her next sentence hold everything it needs to. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’

Octavia shudders out a breath, still not meeting Clarke’s stare. Clarke drops her tone a little because she actually thinks this is resonating with her. _Good_. Something needs to.

‘And I think you are. Your guilt is making you angry, Octavia. So no, Bellamy is not coming down. Not until you get your act together.’

The bar falls silent for a minute, Clarke staring at the black haired girl while she stares at the ground.

The tension snaps when Octavia grabs her bike helmet and makes for the door.

‘Octavia’ Clarke calls, just as her fingers curl around the handle. She looks back over her shoulder, her eyes glistening. ‘You’re losing him. And he doesn’t want that. Don’t make him walk away.’

With that, Octavia pulls open the door and vanishes into the night.

 _Fuck_.

Clarke exhales a breath she didn’t know she was holding before running out around the bar, locking the door with a snap of the bolt.

His sister is a piece of work but maybe a dose of the truth was enough to make her realise what she already knows - she fucked up with Bellamy. It’s time to raise her hand and admit her mistakes, repent for her shortcomings. Clarke’s feet drag as she comes back around the bar, her hand scrubbing against her forehead as she tries to calm herself.

She doesn’t regret it, not when she was defending Bellamy. She may have been harsh but the soft approach wasn’t working - Octavia needed to hear it.

Clarke is passing the bar door when her heart stops in her chest. Bellamy is sitting with his head in his hands on the third step of the stairs, his curls drooping over his fingers and his form tense.

‘Bellamy’ she breathes.

How much of that had he heard? Maybe he didn’t want Clarke to say anything, to maybe have driven Octavia away even more. Fuck - she wasn’t thinking about that.

He doesn’t look up at her when she walks out to him, taking slow steps towards the stairs like she might frighten him away.

‘Bellamy’ she tries again, her voice soft.

When he raises his head to look at her, Clarke almost breaks at the sight of his expression. He looks so sad, his features pulled down from stress and emotion. She fears he might push her away, get up and return to his apartment but instead, he extends his arms and pulls her into him in a delicate manner.

He nuzzles his face against her chest and _fuck_ , Clarke thought her heart couldn’t split any further. She winds her fingers into his dark curls as his hands wrap around her back, holding her against him like his life depends on it. Her spine bends, her body drawing into him even closer. She feels the tension leak from him in a simple exhale, like all he needed was her to hold him.

Clarke’s heart thuds against her ribcage, so loud that she’s sure Bellamy can hear it. Her skin prickles up her neck and around her ears, heat rushing to join it in a matter of seconds.

‘Are you okay?’ She croaks, her head feeling fuzzy.

Clarke cares about him so much, feels so much for him that it makes her ears ring. Instead of answering, he pops his head up from her chest and those brown eyes of his stare at her, like she’s made of everything good in the world. Her stomach flips.

Gratefulness floods his expression - maybe appreciative that someone is standing up for him, demanding respect for him. Her stomach flutters with the way he’s gazing at her, holding her to him like a tether in a storm.

He reaches up, cupping her cheek with one hand and pulling her lips into him. When they connect with his, Clarke knows this kiss is different than their others. He’s meeting her with a softness that she can’t describe, an intensity that makes her forget about everything else buzzing around in her head. She can’t think straight, can’t process. All she feels is him.

Bellamy trails his fingers up her arm, leaving a line of goosebumps behind him as he goes. Without breaking contact with her, he stands and guides her back into the bar. With her lips still locked on his, he lifts her effortlessly onto the bar top.

The cold marble meets her thighs as she widens them, letting Bellamy slot in between her.

All he has to do to turn her on his look at her but this time is different. Clarke can feel the energy around them, delicate and soft like any sharp move will shatter it.

Bellamy’s fingers are grazing her cheek but he might as well be already inside of her. She feels full of him, throbbing with want and a desperate urge for more. She realises that she can never have enough of him - no amount of time will ever fill the desire she has for this man.

Clarke is vaguely aware of him undoing his jeans and has enough sense of reality to know that he’s pushing her black skirt up her thighs and sliding her underwear to the side.

When he enters her, she gasps against his lips and almost falls apart right there. Bellamy moves into her slowly, almost like he’s trying to tease her but Clarke knows he isn’t - he’s trying to savour it.

Normally, Bellamy is a talker. He knows what his voice does to Clarke and so, mumbles strings of filthy things into her ear as he fucks her - driving her closer to the edge with each and every word. This time though, he’s silent. His lips never leave hers as his cock slides deliciously into her, slow and fragile like she would somehow break in his arms.

As much as Clarke loves it rough and dirty, this is driving her to oblivion even quicker because it’s heavy with something unnameable. Some secret that lies unspoken between the two of them.

‘Clarke’ he breathes when he finally pulls his lips away, his eyes cloaked with admiration and gravity - like he’s staring at the physical embodiment of a God from his mythology books.

Clarke has never made love before but she imagines that this is it - even if she’s still running from the emotion, even if she refuses to admit its existence, she can’t help but be swallowed whole in it during this moment.

When she reaches her peak, it’s Bellamy holding her steady. He refuses to come until she has but the second he sees her falling, he lets go and both of them fly over the edge together.

Clarke is panting by the time she comes down, dropping her head onto Bellamy’s shoulder as she tries to catch her breath. He’s leaning his head on top of hers, his own breathing uneven and heavy. His arms are wrapped around her, holding her close to him in the most intimate way.

Clarke can’t form a sentence, can barely remember her own name at this point but she knows for certain that this time has been the best sex of her entire life.

Something has changed between her and Bellamy and the reason why calls to her from the depths of her soul.

Clarke snaps her eyes shut, refusing to let it be vocalised - blocking it out because the reason is something she can’t allow to be real. It rips the air from her lungs and leaves an uneasy feeling in its wake.

It scares her to fucking death - and she’s not strong enough to let it surround her.

Not now. _Not ever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	16. I've Watched Us Improve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Heroes or Ghosts’ by The Coronas.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your lovely, encouraging and supportive comments on the last chapter. For this one, there's some heavy moments along the way but I'm pretty sure all the trigger warnings have been tagged already. I'll leave reminder warnings in the end notes if any of you want to check them out before reading.
> 
> There’s a nice nod to 6x11 in this chapter too with some Blake sibling angst. Hope you guys continue to love the story as much as you do.
> 
> Much love to you all.

The afternoon sun is poking its way in through Northern Lights’ windows when Bellamy emerges into the bar.

His chest is heavy, like he can’t shake the elephant that has been sitting on it since last night. Octavia arriving unexpectedly had thrown a curve ball straight through his happy state, boring a hole in it that he doesn’t know how to fill.

He starts cleaning, wiping down the bar top and facing out stock because the usual clean up routine was interrupted last night.

Bellamy shivers as he thinks about Clarke, the way their sex on top of this very counter had morphed him into an emotional mess of a man.

He had leaned against the bannister of the stairs, listening to Clarke stand up for him in a way nobody else ever has. She said everything to Octavia that he wished he had the courage to say, spoke the words that he always held back in his angry moments because he couldn’t bring himself to inflict that kind of pain on his sister - no matter how much she deserved it or how much pain she inflicted on him.

Bellamy has spent his life standing up for others, taking people in, being responsible for far too many lives which sat on his shoulders. Now, for the first time, he has someone to share that burden with - someone to balance him, take on his demons and fight them alongside of him. Someone to keep him centred.

Clarke was ready made for him, destined to help him and comfort him in as many lives as they live together. Bellamy wonders what kind of deity out there favoured him, made him fortunate enough to deserve that. There’s no doubt in his mind that Clarke was made by Gods, sculpted to be strong, kind and beautiful - just for him. How did he come to deserve her?

When Octavia left Northern Lights, Bellamy lost any feeling he had in his legs and slumped onto the stairs, trying to focus his thinking. He was upset about his sister - of course he was. But there was a burning light in the centre of his chest, engulfing him in one massive swallow. Clarke Griffin had stood out there and battled for him, defended him with an invisible shield and nothing made him feel more loved and cared for before in his life. He didn’t know how to process it.

He hadn’t even heard her approach him but when he looked up and saw how afraid she was - scared that she might have overstepped or did some kind of wrong towards him, the love washed over him again for the millionth time. It warmed him from the inside out and _fuck_ , he knew from that moment that he was obsessed with her. He couldn’t waste another second not kissing her, without trying to prove to her that he was completely and hopelessly in love with that girl.

Bellamy couldn’t pressure her, couldn’t think about the possibility that Clarke might never let herself love him like that - but at least he has her in his life and maybe that’s enough.

When he slipped inside her, the way she looked at him made him tremble. He was no stranger to fucking girls and even though he and Clarke had had sex several times, nothing compared to this. He felt complete, like they were two halves of one whole and they were finally coming together.

He swallowed her gasps and moans into his soul, burned the memory into his mind as the feeling of euphoria took him to a celestial plain - a place where all the problems of his current life felt minute and insignificant. Just him and Clarke, together in this bond that they’ve been born to have. A connection to be felt by just the two of them and nobody else, life after life.

Time ceased to exist and seconds felt like hours, completely enthralled in one another and Bellamy begged for it to be infinite - never ending.

Just before she came apart in his hands, there was a small fraction of time where Bellamy almost said it. The ‘ _I love you_ ’ floated on his lips, just needing another small breath to be set free to her ears. And in that moment, the way Clarke looked at him while he pushed her to her edge gave Bellamy the briefest flicker of hope, the possibility of everything he wants dripping from her gaze. _She loves him, too._

After it was over and Bellamy had pulled out, he felt incomplete once more and his pipe dream of her feeling the same way turned to dust with the aversion of her gaze. Clarke couldn’t look at him for a good ten minutes and Bellamy didn’t make her.

She’s not ready for this. She’s afraid - and he couldn’t blame her, couldn’t vent his frustration and impatience on her when she has no idea that she’s part of a bigger plan.

They merely flicked off the lights and locked up properly before retreating upstairs to bed for the night. It took a long time for Clarke to drift off beside him and even longer for sleep to claim Bellamy. Not only was the Octavia problem weighing him down but the thought of pushing Clarke away kept circling his mind. _God, he can’t lose her._

He has to be more careful - try harder to keep his emotions in check.

A memory of another life sang him off to sleep in the end - one where Clarke pressed loving kisses to his freckles and told him that it was her mission in life to learn every one of them so she could paint them by memory.

He’d give his entire life up for that girl and the gravity of that is overwhelming.

Bellamy has just unlocked the front door of Northern Lights when it springs open behind him, making Bellamy glance over his shoulder at who is coming in at this hour of the day. Normally, his customers don’t wait at the door for opening hour.

Octavia’s presence lands him, makes him turn and stick to the floor in front of her, pinned by her gaze. She’s thinner than he remembers, although he can see the muscle definition in her arms in her white tank. Her eyes are bright, softer than he can remember seeing them in a long time. He had become accustomed to the glare she usually wore when she looked at him, a harsh stare that she reserved for just him.

‘Octavia’ he breathes, unsure of how to steady himself. His heart takes point five seconds to start pounding and he feels dizzy - seeing his baby sister in the flesh after two years of absence knocks him for six.

Clarke had gone home this morning, last night’s encounter seemingly forgotten about as she pressed a kiss to his lips with a smile on her face. She told him she had some things to catch up on but promised to see him later for her shift. Now, without her here, he feels vulnerable with his sister and he’s not sure why. He’s not afraid of Octavia, just scared of the conversation that is impending from their interaction.

If she is callous and set in her ways of keeping Bellamy at the edge of her life, he’ll have to tell her to go - cut her out of his own for the sake of his mental health and self worth. If she’s willing to work towards something better, he knows in his heart that he can’t trust her word about it straight away. She’ll still leave and things will be changed no matter what way she acts with him.

He’d feel stronger doing all of that with Clarke by his side, ready to comfort him when the door slams shut behind his sister.

Still, he has no choice but to face this alone now. He hadn’t expected Octavia to return so soon.

‘Bell’ she whispers. Her hair is longer than the last time he laid eyes on her but still ebony black. The nickname makes Bellamy cock his chin up, harden his jaw so he can hold decorum. If he lets it in, it’ll break him.

He looks at her expectantly, waiting for her move.

‘Can we talk?’ Octavia manages after what feels like ten minutes of silence.

Bellamy is about to be petulant, snap a response at her that’s fuelled by pain - but he resists and nods to a nearby table. She gives him a testing smile, one which he doesn’t return as they take their seats.

‘So - the bar looks the same’ she says lightly, glancing at the details surrounding them. It looks different during daylight, more vintage than the other modern bars in the town. Octavia has only been here once, right before she cut him out of her life completely. ‘I remember in one of your letters, you said-’

‘What do you want, Octavia?’ Bellamy folds his arms across himself, leaning back against his chair. He’s trying his best to keep the anger out, shield himself against the turmoil inside his chest that is thrashing violently to get out.

Hurt washes over Octavia’s face for a quick second before she tries to conceal it, cloak it with her own steel shield.

Bellamy can still see traces of it in her eyes though, as much as she’s trying to hide it. She’s aching for a way to bridge the gulf that has formed between them. ‘What do you say when _I’m sorry_ ’s not good enough?’

He sucks in a breath, eyes trained on the girl who he had let hurt him for so long. If it wasn’t for Clarke, she’d still be doing this and he’d still be letting her. He shrugs a little in response, not giving her much.

‘I’ve blamed you for so long, Bell’ her voice quivers. ‘It wasn’t until last night that I truly saw how wrong it was. I let it go on for so long and I didn’t know how to find a way back, so I just…’ she trails off, shaking her head.

‘You just kept going’ he finishes for her and she nods, looking guilty as hell. ‘It’s not okay, O.’

He needs to take a stand for himself - conversations with Clarke have made him realise that he doesn’t have to take this and learning that Clarke is his soulmate made him understand that his existence isn’t solely for his sister. Despite what he thought before, she is not his only purpose.

‘I know’ she says and the sincerity in her voice throws him. ‘You’ve done so much for me and I didn’t even stop to think about it. I just seen myself, felt hard done by and let myself wallow in it. I should have been there for you, like you were for me.’

Bellamy swallows, emotion threatening to escape at every second. He keeps it in, keeps his face stoic as his sister breaks down in front of him. He fights every instinct that’s telling him to go to her when her voice shakes. The wave of her cry is transparent in each word.

‘I’m _so_ sorry, Bell.’

Bellamy closes his eyes, forcing himself to breathe. If he goes to her now, she’ll think everything is okay. That he’s still the same person who will run to her, jump for her no matter what. And he needs to make sure this lesson sticks, needs her to know that he’s no longer going to be that person.

‘I’m not asking for forgiveness. I know I have to earn that - along with your trust.’

‘What do you want me to say, O?’

Tears are spilling down her cheeks, her expression raw and exposed. ‘Say I’m your _sister_.’

Bellamy takes a breath, a brief moment to school his emotions and quieten his heart. He imagines Clarke as he squeezes his fingers around his thigh, wishing to God that it was her hand.

‘You’re my sister. But you’re not my responsibility. Not anymore.’

Octavia nods, a cry escaping her lips as she looks down to her lap. She knows how hurtful she has been, how selfish. It’s going to take a long time to rebuild what they had - it took years to destroy, it isn’t going to be fixed over one conversation. At least now, they might be on the right track.

Bellamy fetches her a glass of water from behind the bar, gives her a second to compose herself. His hands are shaking when he’s filling the glass and he knows his breathing mirrors that.

That was the hardest thing he’s ever done in his whole life but he feels better after saying it - feels like the old pages of their history have been ripped out and they’re starting a fresh book.

He hopes the worst is over.

When he returns, Octavia accepts the glass and takes a drink, swallowing the water like it’s a calming brew. Bellamy takes his seat across from her again and they sit in silence for a couple of minutes.

The air between them feels light now and even though there was plenty more that could have been said, insults fired from both directions, it was like what they exchanged was enough. A mutual, silent understanding simmers around them - one that signifies the two of them moving forward to a better place. Bellamy hopes they can reach it one day.

The process will be slow but he resigns to baby steps, a little give here and there on both sides. Their eyes meet and they exchange a tight lipped smile, enough to allow them both to breathe a little easier.

‘That girl last night’ Octavia says as she looks down into the glass, her voice stronger now. ‘She’s really something, huh?’

_You have no idea._

‘Clarke’ Bellamy tries not to let the pounding of his heart weaken his voice. Even the mere mention of her has him spinning. ‘Yeah. She’s great.’

‘Are you two…’

‘No’ Bellamy shakes his head, even though it’s a loaded question with a potentially loaded answer. He doesn’t feel like sharing his sex life with his sister and really, without sharing the ‘fate’ and ‘soulmate’ story, he and Clarke aren’t much else right now. ‘Just friends.’

‘Are you sure?’ Octavia’s lips quirk into a half smile. ‘I just thought with the way she defended you last night ...I don’t know’ she shrugs. ‘I’d love a _friend_ who would do that for me.’

‘She’s just a good person’ Bellamy mutters, picking at his thumbnail under the table.

‘Mmhm’ Octavia relaxes a little into the chair. ‘If you say so.’

They spend the next hour talking like two awkward acquaintances who are forced to sit in a room together. Although, by the end, they are visibly more relaxed and comfortable. They discuss their lives and Octavia updates him on what she’s doing now, who she’s spending time with, what her holiday plans are.

He discovers that she’s flying out tonight but she promises to call next week and even suggests coming back to Arkadia next month to see him. Bellamy appreciates the effort and they exchange an awkward hug before she leaves, emotion burning on both their faces once more.

When the door swings shut, Bellamy exhales a breath and has to balance himself against the bar. _Fuck_ , he’s exhausted. He expected to feel relieved now that things with his sister are no longer hostile but instead, he just feels empty. He desperately needs a distraction, maybe a safe place to fall asleep.

‘Man, call me crazy but I think I just seen your sister’ Murphy says as he comes through the door for his shift. He must know the second he sees Bellamy’s face that he wasn’t hallucinating, that he definitely did see Octavia. ‘Shit, are you okay?’

‘I think I need the night off’ Bellamy murmurs, not even able to lift his head properly. He scoops his curls back with his fingers, sucking in a breath as he blinks. He probably looks as bad as he feels.

Things may be on the way to better with Octavia now but they are nowhere near where he’d like them to be - and the feeling is a little disheartening. It pulls at his heart, pain irradiating its way through his bones. His conversation with her wasn’t easy and in fact, he feels guilty about hurting her now. His go-to emotion with Octavia, it seems.

‘Yeah, sure’ Murphy leans beside him, his voice soft and full of concern. It’s rare Bellamy needs a night away from the bar. ‘Whatever you need. Harper, Clarke and I have it covered.’

‘Clarke needs the night off, too’ Bellamy decides, not even caring how that sounds - he just needs her. Murphy picks up on it straight away, nudging his shoulder against Bellamy’s. He can practically hear the grin forming on his face.

‘Nice.’

Bellamy huffs out a silent chuckle through his nose, can’t help the smile that forces his way onto his expression. At this point, he doesn’t care who knows that he and Clarke are sleeping together. Whatever, he has more to be concerning himself with at the moment. And right now, he needs something to take the edge off this feeling that is smothering him.

Clarke Griffin is his go to medicine, always.

 

-

 

Bellamy zips up his navy jacket as he stands outside Clarke’s apartment, waiting for her to answer. It’s less to banish the cold because it’s still quite warm outside, more to just have something to do with his hands.

He’s breathing is ragged, mainly because he’s worked himself up the entire way over here. Everything feels messy, unsorted in his mind and he needs a distraction. Needs to feel something other than the ache in his chest over Octavia, other than the pain in his head from trying to figure out things with Clarke, other than the pure exhaustion and stress of everything piling up together.

Clarke pulls open the door a few seconds later, dressed in a pair of tight, grey sweatpants and an old, black, concert t-shirt. She looks radiant. Bellamy, on the other hand, is braced against the frame of her door, practically gasping as he tries to keep the call of a panic attack at bay. _Fuck, he needs her._

‘Bellamy?’ Clarke barely gets out before his mouth covers hers, crowding her into her apartment.

He kicks the door closed behind them as a tiny moan escapes her throat, her fingers curling around the hair at the nape of his neck as she gets lost in him.

Clarke lets Bellamy kiss her for a few moments before she notices his breathing, pulls back to check on him.

‘Hey’ her brow creases in concern but he pulls her into him once more. He doesn’t want to talk, just ignore it. She gives him a couple of more seconds before pulling back again. ‘Hey. What’s wrong?’

‘Please’ he begs breathlessly, his kiss capturing her again for a brief moment.

His forehead is pressed to hers and he can read Clarke’s worry, etched into every feature of her. One hand is pressed to his chest, like she’s trying to stop him for a second to get a better scope of him. He’s lifting her hand with each hard breath, barely able to keep control anymore. _Fuck_. The other is on the side of his neck, fingers resting there like she’s holding him together.

If he’s completely honest, she is.

‘Please, Clarke.’

She hesitates for a beat before letting Bellamy crash against her once more and allowing the heat of the moment take over. She’ll do anything for him and he knows that, so it’s probably unfair of him to keep her in the dark about how bad he’s feeling right now.

It will be fine. Once he’s with her, this panic will go away.

He sheds his jacket and t-shirt in a quick frenzy, stumbling backwards into her bedroom with Clarke’s lips locked on his. When they land on her mattress, he fumbles as he tries to remove her bra under her t-shirt but his fingers are shaking, like he can’t work them at all.

Bellamy is skilled in bed, can remove underwear with the mere brush of his fingers - but right now, he feels like he’s dreaming one of those nightmares where you’re desperate to do something but your limbs feel too heavy.

Clarke doesn’t say anything, just pulls her t-shirt off over her head to help him - revealing her purple, lacy bra underneath. Bellamy’s vision is blurring and he can’t really focus - all he knows is that if he just gets absorbed in his girl, everything will be okay.

He tries to climb on top of her but fuck, he doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. He can barely think - can barely hold himself up. He loses his strength, arms buckling under him so that he nearly crushes her.

’Bellamy! Shit, are you okay?’ Clarke’s voice buzzes in his ears but he’s spinning. He feels drunk, drugged - weak. Black spots are popping in his vision.

The panic bursts through and he can’t grab it, can’t control it anymore. And the thoughts of its immediate arrival makes the feeling ten times worse.

‘FUCK!’ He shouts in frustration of not able to check himself, practically falling onto his feet as he tries to pace the room. He just ends up stumbling against Clarke’s closet door as the panic attack grips its talons around his lungs and suddenly, he can’t breathe at all.

Every single mechanism and skill Bellamy had collected over the years to cope with panic attacks are all gone out the window now. He can’t think of a single one.

‘Bellamy!’

Clarke is standing now too, both of them topless in front of one another. Bellamy can feel the sweat building on his skin and he clutches onto something in front of him as the first few moments of the attack swallow him whole. The usual feeling of imminent death enshrouds him and his skin feels like it’s crawling.

‘Bellamy, look at me’ Clarke’s voice sounds like it’s coming through cotton and his vision is completely black, can’t remember one second to the next. All he can think about is how bad this feels as the heaviness that has been sitting on his chest since this morning finally consumes him. ‘ _Bellamy!_ ’

He has no idea how long passes but when he finally starts coming out of it, he notices the thing he’s clutching is Clarke’s arm and he’s sitting on her wood floor, the features of her bedroom surrounding him.

Clarke’s bright, blue eyes are staring at him in alarm. Her voice is a direct contrast, soft and soothing - clearly not reflecting how she feels.

‘You’re okay.’ Her repetition comes through when the ringing in his ears stops and his breath is finally starting to regulate.

When he looks down, he notices how tightly his fingers are pressed against Clarke’s forearm. _Shit_. He lets go quickly, leaving indents of his prints on her skin.

It’s dull outside her bedroom window, the grey sky a mirror to Bellamy’s mood. His breath is back properly but he feels even more exhausted now than before. Clarke’s purple bra is a reminder of what he came here for but he can’t find the energy now, can barely lift his head.

‘Come on’ she whispers, helping him to his feet and leading him a few steps to her bed. By the time his head touches her pillow, he can feel sleep pulling at him. He can’t explain anything to Clarke right now, just mumbles an apology but she shushes him gently, tracing designs up and down his spine. He lies flat on his stomach, head turned slightly to watch Clarke as he drifts off.

Her expression is still tight with worry and he wants to erase it, to reassure her but he can’t do anything except close his eyes as exhaustion finally wins the battle he’s been fighting all day. It’s been an overwhelming day, one that demanded too much of him emotionally and he’s not surprised stress has taken this response in his body. He let it build with no release.

When Bellamy sleeps, it’s dreamless - just a black abyss floating there for him to sink into. For the first time in a long time, Clarke isn’t there waiting for him.

 

-

 

‘No, he’s sleeping now’ Bellamy hears Clarke’s soft voice before he opens his eyes. It’s gentle and low, like she’s trying not to wake him. ‘Yeah, it was bad.’

When Bellamy’s eyes flutter open, it’s completely black outside and rain is falling against the window. The room is dark but there’s light seeping in from the living room where Bellamy can see Clarke on the phone.

She’s looking at her feet, one arm crossed over herself and the other holding the phone to her ear. Bellamy watches her movements from his position on her pillow, the way she takes a step every three seconds before turning even slower and pacing in the other direction. She’s still in her tight, grey sweatpants but she’s replaced her t-shirt with a comfy, seafoam green sweater.

‘I don’t think so, Murphy’ Clarke murmurs. ‘Yeah, you’re right - he needs more than a night off. Maybe Emori and Maya could cover?’

Bellamy furrows his brow. She’s organising leave for him?

‘Yeah. I’ll stay with him. I know tomorrow night is busy though, with the band. You think you guys will be okay?’ There’s a pause before she continues. ‘Okay. Yeah, I’ll keep you updated. Thanks, Murphy. Bye.’

He watches her phone light up her face with its glow before she shuts it off. She glances into the bedroom and sees Bellamy is awake, a look of sympathy washing over her face in that moment.

‘Hey’ she says quietly, folding her arms across herself as she comes into the bedroom.

Bellamy manages to pull himself up to lean against her headboard and it’s only then he really notices how shit he feels. His whole body feels like it’s been hit with a freight train and his limbs are weak, head fuzzy.

Clarke sits at the end of the bed, eyes trained on him. ‘You okay?’

‘Been better’ he mumbles. Physically, he feels like crap but emotionally, he feels even worse. He wishes Clarke didn’t have to see him like that. He wasn’t thinking straight - just desperate to forget everything. It wasn’t a healthy way to process anything and it ended up backfiring.

‘That was Murphy’ she gestures to her phone. ‘I called to tell him that we wouldn’t make it tonight but he said he already knew.’

Bellamy bites his bottom lip, gaze flicking down to the bed. She knows now that he had no intention of working tonight and probably knows the reason why. She knows that he didn’t come around here for casual sex, but rather for sex to distract him from what was really going on.

He came because he was trying to drown out emotion in the only way he seems to know how: by ignoring it.

He knew he wouldn’t have been capable to run Northern Light’s tonight - knew that after fucking Clarke, he had no real plan to deal with everything.

‘Bellamy.’ He can hear the disappointment in her tone and his heart drops. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that Octavia came by?’

He shakes his head, unable to form an answer for that. Murphy must have told her the state he found Bellamy in when he came in for his shift.

‘Truth time, remember? I knew there was something wrong the second I opened the door.’ She waits for him to respond but he doesn’t, still staring at her blankets that are pooling at his waist. ‘Fuck, Bellamy. You scared me half to death.’

‘I didn’t want to worry you.’

Clarke sighs, regret in her tone when she speaks. ‘No, I know. I’m sorry.’

Bellamy sees her run a hand through her curls in his peripheral vision. There’s a few beats of silence before Clarke exhales again and Bellamy is afraid to check her face, afraid to see anything other than admiration for him there.

‘What did Octavia say to make this happen?’

‘She was fine’ Bellamy says, low and shameful. He blows out a breath, weighted with guilt for landing this all on her. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, you have nothing to apologise for - _I’m_ sorry’ Clarke reaches out, holding his hand. He snaps his head up, observing the way her eyes are laden with regret and guilt of her very own. ‘I should have expected her to turn up today, I should have been there.’

‘Clarke, you couldn’t have known’ he squeezes her hand. She shakes her head, as if she’s battling her own internal war within herself. She looks guilty, like she’s done something terrible.

‘I should have been there’ she mutters, seemingly to herself more than him.

‘It went fine, honestly. Octavia apologised - basically said everything I’ve been dying to hear from her ever since things went bad between the two of us. I couldn’t have asked for more. We’re going to try and repair things’ Bellamy tells her.

‘That’s really good, Bellamy. I’m glad’ Clarke smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She’s clearly still kicking herself that she wasn’t there to support him. The urge to extinguish that rushes up through Bellamy’s entire being.

‘I just let everything build up. I didn’t mean to put you through any of that - this isn’t your problem.’

Clarke’s eyes dart to his, a little anger swirling in them.

‘My mother isn’t your problem. My dad dying isn’t your problem. My education or unemployment isn’t your problem. My feelings of being lost or heartbroken isn’t your problem. My ex-boyfriend isn’t your problem, Bellamy. But you’ve been there for me. I should have been there for _you_ today.’

She’s right. They’ve helped each other out countless times but she couldn't have known this would happen today. Clarke says it with such conviction though that Bellamy frowns, wondering why she’s beating herself up so much. She left this morning, said she had some things to catch up on. Is there something he’s missing here?

‘It’s okay, I came straight here after O left.’

‘Yeah and look how that ended up’ she scoffs, undercurrents of self hatred flowing through her tone. She knows that if she had been there, she would have balanced him out and he wouldn’t have gotten that bad.

She wasn’t to know though. It’s not her fault. Still, there’s definitely something going on here that Bellamy is unaware of. Guilt is consuming her, fuelling this and blowing it way out of proportion.

Clarke gathers herself in a deep breath and Bellamy watches the way her hands uncurl from the fists she was holding them in. She locks eyes with him once more, remorse and regret still simmering in her irises.

‘I’m sorry. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this alone.’

Bellamy nods. ‘I know. We’ll get through everything together, right?’

‘Right. Together’ Clarke agrees and when Bellamy outstretches his arms, she immediately falls in against him. Her sweater warms his bare chest and he plants a kiss on top of her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo.

Bellamy puts everything to the back of his mind and just focuses on the girl in his arms, grateful that he’ll always have her to lean on when times get tough.

He’ll be damned if he screws this up - he can’t afford to. He needs her more than ever.

 

-

 

Bellamy learns that Clarke has organised cover for the two of them until Tuesday.

She told the others that Bellamy wasn’t up for hosting family night this Monday and even though he protested because ‘Saturday night’s are crazy busy’ and ‘he always lets the others unwind on a Monday night’, Clarke shut him down with a simple ‘everything will be fine for one weekend’ and ‘the place won’t fall apart without you.’

She orders him to stay with her - that he needs a break, needs to rest, reset and process everything. And really, Bellamy can’t argue with her much after that.

They emerge from her bedroom and Clarke cooks him pasta, rolling her sleeves up as she stirs the sauce into the pot. He comes up behind her, arms folded around her waist as he kisses her neck. She leans into him, smiling contently until Bellamy catches sight of her arm - at the purple bruises blooming under her skin.

‘Clarke’ he rasps, pulling her arm gently so he can inspect it further. He knows instantly that he did this, during his panic attack.

‘Bellamy’ her voice is a warning. ‘Don’t.’

‘Clarke, I’m so…’

‘Don’t’ she takes her arm back, eyes burning straight through him. ‘I’m fine. This wasn’t your fault. There’s to be no more about it.’

Bellamy shoves his pasta around with his fork after that, unable to swallow a bite as they sit at her breakfast bar. He keeps glancing at her arm, even though it’s covered now with her sweater once more. Clarke catches him on several occasions and eventually, she puts down her fork and turns on her stool to face him.

‘Every time you look at my arm, it’s one less time I kiss you.’

Bellamy’s brow puckers together, snapping his eyes to hers. It’s then that he realises she’s trying to make light of this, a smug glint in her eye that tells him she thinks she’ll win this.

‘That’s unfair’ he holds off the smirk because he still feels guilty as hell.

‘That’s the deal’ she shrugs one shoulder. ‘Take it or leave it.’

‘You don’t wanna kiss me, Princess?’ He plays along now, sliding off his own stool to stand in front of her.

His hands curl around her waist and she cocks her chin up away from him, feigning a sullen attitude. He drops his head, kissing her throat and down her shoulder until he reaches her arm. He pulls up the arm of her sweater, swallowing thickly when he sees his fingermarks. He presses soft kisses to them, wishing it would erase the marks completely.

‘You’re looking at them’ she purses her lips, her eyes light in the face of his challenge.

‘You not gonna kiss me now, Clarke?’ Bellamy pulls her sleeve back down, glad that the proof of what his panic did is gone from his sight.

Clarke is full on pouting now, eyes narrowing as she watches him rise to meet her. He plants a kiss just under her jaw, lingering and tender. She looks endearing as hell like this but Bellamy refuses to let her win. Holding back kisses is too much torture to be considered good punishment.

‘Even when I do this?’ He breathes against her ear as one hand trails up her thigh. He feels her shiver as his body crowds her. She opens her legs to let him slot in between her and he knows he’s winning. Two can play at this game. ‘Or this?’ Bellamy squeezes her waist, his fingers dangerously close to where he knows she wants him.

‘Bellamy’ she hums out a sigh.

‘Yeah, Princess?’ He pulls back enough to see her long eyelashes flutter open, her pupils dilated with want and longing.

He braces himself against the counter and the back of her stool as Clarke leans in, their lips just a breath apart while she lingers there. When she moves the full way in, she’ll have admitted defeat and Bellamy can finally give in too, making everything up to her - as many times as she wants. Unfortunately, neither of them want to throw in the towel on a challenge. Stubbornness seems to be a shared trait between their two souls. 

‘Eat your pasta and don’t look at my arm again’ she whispers, her breath hot on his mouth before she pulls back and spins back into her own plate, giggling as she goes.

‘You bitch’ he groans as he drops his head, curls flopping over his eyes as he does so but damn, he’s laughing. This girl - she’ll be the death of him.

When they retreat to bed, they don’t have sex because Clarke says she’s tired - really, Bellamy thinks that she just wants to make him rest, even though it’s obvious that she wants him. She's too decent for her own good.

He’s grateful for it though when they wake the following morning and Bellamy feels a lot better. The weight on his chest is gone and everything in his head feels lighter too. Rest is exactly what he needed.

They spend Saturday lazing around Clarke’s apartment, watching episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine on Netflix because outrageously, Clarke has never seen it.

She trips over herself all day to tend to Bellamy’s every need. She makes him blueberry pancakes for breakfast and serves it to him on the couch. She’s the sweetest person to ever exist.

She asks him constantly throughout the day if he needs anything and when he tells her that he needs her, she gives him her most cheeky grin and hops into his lap - finally fucking him until he sees stars behind his eyes.

They make out lazily on the couch for most of the afternoon and Bellamy finds himself wishing that he never has to go back to work.

They head out for pizza that evening, just to get some fresh air but they bring the food home as a takeaway. Clarke wears his favourite navy jacket and Bellamy can’t help but beam at her - everything looks better on her.

On Sunday, they discuss everything with Octavia and Clarke praises him for being so strong, for doing the right thing. He feels better about it all after their conversation, feels like everything really will be okay.

In the evening, they play Never Have I Ever (the sex version) and they both end up getting horny and possessive from it. Bellamy fucks Clarke so hard from behind that she’s screaming his name at the end, their passion fuelled by the lighthearted type of jealousy that came from the stories of past lovers in the game.

When night falls, they’re lying on the couch in the dark with the only form of light coming from the television. Clarke’s back is to Bellamy’s chest, her body turned slightly with her hands in the air as they make animal shadows with their fingers against the wall behind them. It’s such a simple moment but fuck, Bellamy is in love with the serenity of just being with her.

Friday seems like a distant dream and he has to keep pinching himself because the happiness washing over him doesn’t even feel real.

He spends so much of his time just staring at Clarke and, even though he’s trying not to analyse everything, there’s times that she looks at him and his heart literally stops in his chest.

In times like that, he can almost let himself believe that Clarke is in love with him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger warning:** panic attacks (based off of my own experience of them) and Bellamy accidentally marks Clarke's arm during the attack.
> 
> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	17. The Runner and the Lover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'The Runner and the Lover' by Shelby Merry.
> 
> For those of you who are familiar with the song, you will know it is thee most Bellarke song ever written. For those of you who aren't, you'll see why during the story.
> 
> This is a chapter highly anticipated by you all, so enjoy and thank you all so much for reading. Feel free to scream at me in the comments when you're done :)

The days spent with Bellamy are pure bliss. Nowhere to go, no commitments or people to entertain. Just the two of them, wrapped up in one another. Time melts into itself and hours go by without them even realising it. It’s effortless to be with him.

Clarke smiles as she looks across at him now, brows pinched as he concentrates on a tattered book between his fingers. She sits opposite him on the couch, the guitar in her hands as she strums out melodies. Monty had given her a few chords to learn and practice with for some new songs on Wednesday night. She keeps getting distracted though - Bellamy’s boyish curls and his sharp jawline demand her attention. He's so beautiful.

They spent the last few days at Clarke’s but today, they decided to spend it at Bellamy’s - even though there’s no family night tonight.

Monday is always the day that their friends come around to Northern Lights but Clarke had strictly forbidden it after Friday.

 _Jesus_ , Bellamy aged her ten years after the state he rocked up in. She knew the second she opened the door that something was wrong. His eyes were wild, his breathing uneven and he looked like he was going to collapse at any minute.

She kissed him back, giving him what he thought he needed because she knew she wouldn’t get anywhere with him if she had kept protesting. Pushing someone into talking isn’t the right thing to do - all she could do for him was let everything progress the way it was meant to. Let him feel it.

The guilt overcame her when she spoke to Murphy, when she realised all of this was brought on by Octavia’s arrival. Clarke had left Bellamy’s apartment Friday morning, a false smile plastered on her face as she told him she had a few things to do. Really, she just wanted to get out of there. The night before had been so intimate, so intense, so frightening that Clarke didn’t know how to process it. They had definitely made love - there was no doubt in her mind.

It was easy to get sucked into the way Bellamy was looking at her, too easy to let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. Maybe they could fall in love and it would be real - that it would last and they’d always be that much in love. No divorce, no cheating - just the two of them in this happy bubble that nobody could ever burst.

Clarke had spent ages falling asleep that night, next to a very still Bellamy who she knew hadn’t fallen asleep either. Those thoughts swirled around in her mind and a tiny bud of hope blossomed in her chest - because maybe, they could have that.

The harsh light of morning shed a very different perspective on the matter. Clarke was being stupid. There’s no way they could make anything work. Love doesn’t exist and nothing ever lasts. There’s a reason Clarke made this promise to herself after Finn and she can’t get swept away with Bellamy. They have something so good together already, she can’t ruin that by making it more.

So that morning, Clarke did what she does best - she ran.

She took a cab all the way out to the docks, sat on the wooden deck and listened to the early morning seagulls squawk around her. _She can’t do this_. Nothing was even happening and her heart was pounding. There was no gun to her head, no spoken pressure from Bellamy at all - and yet she felt it. This immense pull to him like she had no control over it. Nothing was happening and yet it was.

If she kept going down this road, she’d fall in love with him. Or whatever people feel at the start. And by the look of things, he was falling for her too. How could she have let this happen?

She thought that it was just them satisfying their urges, quenching their thirst for one another but fuck, Clarke is a smart girl - she knows what kind of person Bellamy is. He’s good, decent, honourable. He’s like the sun, insistent of being looked at, noticed and needed for everything to function. She should have seen this coming.

Clarke decided then, staring out at the water lapping around the grimy poles of the docks and watching the boats bob in front of her, that she had to end things with Bellamy. They needed to be just friends - no matter how good the sex was. Because there was no way she was going back there, to a place where everything ends. It’s less scary this way, less painful.

Little did she know, while she was out at the docks being so miserably selfish, Bellamy was facing Octavia alone. She should have known that his sister would come back, even if it was to sort things. Clarke should have been there and over the past few days, she spent far too long silently berating herself for it. Maybe Bellamy wouldn’t have had his panic attack if she had have been there to support him.

Her plan for her and Bellamy to be ‘just friends’ had to take a backseat for the weekend - he needs her and as scary as it is to admit, she needs him as well.

‘You okay?’ Bellamy’s voice breaks Clarke out of her trance and when she looks up, he’s staring at her. She realises how silent it is in his apartment - she has stopped playing the guitar.

‘Yeah’ Clarke smiles, letting the layer of guilt fold until it’s over her heart again, where it belongs. The faint afternoon glow pours in through his windows, creating beautiful yellow hues around his apartment.

‘You’re looking very pensive’ he smirks, averting his attention back to his book.

Clarke can’t pull her eyes away from him as he turns the page, golden hour basking him in its light like he’s Helios himself. His olive skin, dappled with freckles across his cheeks and nose, looks like it glows from within. That’s when a familiar pain starts to form in Clarke’s head - but this time, it’s so intense that she can’t distract herself or ignore it.

 

_‘This is my mission’ Clarke says as she kisses Bellamy’s face, each freckle getting its own piece of love._

_‘To blind me?’ Bellamy chuckles as her nose prods his eye._

_‘No’ Clarke presses another kiss to his cheek. ‘To learn every one of these by heart.’_

_His freckles are something that strikes affection in her chest, makes her heart swell whenever she looks at him. He looks so adorable with them and it’s definitely a feature she favours. With Bellamy, though, there’s so many things that she could pick. She loves everything about him._

_‘Why is that?’ Bellamy asks, his voice soft and fond - just for her._

_‘So I can paint them from memory’ she smirks, popping her chin onto his chest as she gazes up at him. His dark curls flop over his brows and he’s wearing a lazy smile on his face, the one he always wears when he’s doting on her._

_‘You’re too cute’ he murmurs. ‘You know that?’_

_Bellamy flips her over, the bed creaking underneath them as he presses soft kisses to her lips. Clarke winds her fingers through his hair as she tugs him closer, getting lost in the tranquility of him like always. She smiles against him when she nibbles his lip and he rewards her with a moan, just like she knew he would. She knows him like the back of her hand._

_‘Fuck’ he curses against her lips. ‘Thank God you’re mine.’_

 

Clarke jolts up off the couch, her guitar falling from her lap onto the floor with a thump. The vibrations of guitar strings echo around them as the instrument settles and when she snaps her gaze to Bellamy, he’s sitting upright now with his full attention on her.

_What the fuck was that?_

The pain in her head starts to subside but she’s holding it like it might fall off. Her heart is racing, like she might never calm it down again. _What the hell? Where the fuck did she just go? Was that a dream? A vision?_

‘Clarke?’

Bellamy is staring at her, a curious look on his face and all she can do is stare right back at him. It almost feels like he’s waiting for something, more than an explanation. She grips the back of the couch to ground herself, nails digging into the fabric. Her chest rises and falls sharply with each breath, eyes wide as she gazes at the man in front of her.

The guy she saw in that dream or whatever the fuck it was, it was Bellamy - but it wasn’t _this_ Bellamy. He was a little older, lines evident under his eyes. How could that be? Did she just see the future or some shit like that?

‘Clarke’ Bellamy calls her again and she realises he’s standing now. His hands are out in front of him as if he’s trying to calm her down, approach her carefully like she’s a wild deer that might bolt at any second.

Maybe she is - because that’s what she does.

Clarke turns on her heel and makes for the door, a buzzing sensation under her skin. She has no idea what the fuck that was but what’s worse is she feels like it’s too late. She’s already fallen for Bellamy, down so far into the hole of ‘love’ that she can’t climb back out now. This weekend with him did nothing but act as a catalyst for the process and now Clarke is in over her head.

‘Clarke!’ Bellamy calls to her but she’s already halfway down the stairs.

She reaches the alleyway door and escapes out through it, unsure if she actually closes it behind her or not. She doesn’t stop running until she’s reached her apartment but even then, her mind is still running miles ahead of her.

 _Fuck._ She is in so much trouble - she knew this was going to happen and the realisation that it has already is absolutely terrifying.

_What has she done?_

 

-

 

Clarke wakes on Tuesday to the worst headache ever and proceeds through the day in a zombie-like daze.

Bellamy had tried calling her all night but she couldn’t answer him. What would she even say to him? _Yeah, I had a vision of you. I don’t know when it was or if its even happened yet but that’s basically why I freaked out and left. That and realising how in love with you I am._

She tries repeating to herself numerous times during the day that love isn’t real - but she can’t seem to explain in any other words how she feels about Bellamy. She’s never felt like this before, not with Finn or Lexa or anybody. She tells herself that it’s because she and Bellamy are such good friends, that the sex is unbelievable - anything instead of admitting the truth.

She’s scared. That’s the bottom line. Scared that if she gives her whole self to Bellamy, he’ll leave or cheat or fuck her over like everybody else has done. She knows he’s not like that but hell, she thought her parents were the perfect couple until they split up.

What if they get bored of one another? What if this ‘love’ fizzles out and they’re left with nothing but resentment and contentment of normality? All of that comes with the assumption that he even loves her back.

More than anything, though, she’s scared of losing him completely.

She gets a number of messages from Bellamy throughout the morning but she doesn’t even know how to respond.

_‘Clarke. Can we talk?’_

_‘Are you okay?’_

_‘Whatever this is, we can talk about it.’_

_‘It’s me, Princess. You know you can talk to me.’_

_‘You can’t ignore me forever.’_

To his credit, he gives her space after that. He doesn’t try to call over or blow up her phone - he just leaves her be. She’ll have to see Bellamy at some point though and he’s right, she can’t ignore him forever. Thank God she isn’t working tonight - but it will be the first time in ages that she’s missed a night at the bar.

She doesn’t give any further thought to her ‘episode’, just puts it down to stress and tries to keep her mind occupied.

Monty and Clarke usually practice on Tuesday nights, get ready for their performance the following night and those rehearsals are normally done in Northern Lights. Clarke ends up texting him, saying she has an awful headache and asks if he’d mind practicing at hers tonight.

Monty shows up at seven on the dot with a bag of pain reliever drugs from the store and his guitar on his back. Clarke smiles, despite the cloud over her head all day.

‘Thank you’ she says as she lets him in.

‘Of course - but if you’re not up to rehearsing, we can just wing it tomorrow’ Monty follows her into the living room.

‘No, let’s do this’ Clarke ensures him, feeling the need to get everything off her brain for a while.

They go through a few of their regulars, practice a couple from last week and then start into their two new songs. The first one is fine, a cover of ‘How to Save a Life’ by The Fray. Clarke loves that song so she finds the rhythm easily on her own strings, her voice chiming in perfect harmony with Monty’s. The second is a song Clarke has been learning the chords to all week, but doesn’t yet know the lyrics.

‘I’ll sing them first and then we’ll go through verse by verse to synchronise our voices and get you familiar with the words’ Monty tells her, tuning his guitar. His collared jacket is popped around his neck and his eyes close the second his fingers hit the strings. It’s a habit Clarke has noted since singing with him and his voice is so beautiful that she can easily get lost in it. They make a good pair.

When he starts to sing though, Clarke’s throat begins to constrict. The lyrics are too apt, too suited to her mess of a situation right now and she wonders how in the name of God she is going to sing this in Northern Lights tomorrow night.

Her heart is banging against her ribcage and the tears are bulging behind her seemingly stone-like persona. She’s dying to cry, dying to gasp in the air around her but she merely sucks in little puffs through her nose and keeps her eyes focused on her friend.

Monty, ignorant of the way the song he’s chosen is affecting her, sings through the lines so flawlessly. When he finishes and encourages Clarke to join, she notices her fingers are shaking against the strings of her instrument.

‘You alright?’ Monty wonders, a pinched look between his brows.

‘Yeah’ she says quickly but when she starts to sing, her voice shakes just as much as her hands.

She reads the lyrics off the sheet in front of her, wondering how she’s going to learn it by tomorrow night when all she can think of is how the song makes her feel. Someone might as well have been viewing her life through a microscope and wrote down her exact feelings in poetic form.

‘Okay’ Monty nods when she finishes. ‘It will be better when it’s polished up a little.’

It’s a nice way of saying that Clarke wasn’t up to scratch. She knows she wasn’t - hell, it’s tearing her heart in two.

‘Maybe it’s the song’ Clarke shrugs. ‘Maybe we should wait and sing it a different time, or choose another song.’

‘It’s one of my favourites - everyone will love it, don’t worry’ Monty reassures her, flicking over the sheet so he can scribble down some notes. ‘Let’s try again. Together this time.’

Clarke closes her eyes, exhales silently and just prays to every deity out there that she can get through tomorrow night.

It’s bad enough having to see Bellamy when she has no idea what to do about anything - but having to sing this in front of him? It might just break her.

 

-

 

Clarke is standing outside the bar door, wringing her fingers together as she shifts from one foot to the other. It’s been at least five minutes but she can’t bring herself to push the door open and go inside.

She’s left it late on purpose. Normally, she shows up about two hours before she and Monty perform - more recently, she just comes down from Bellamy’s apartment along with him to open the bar. Now, it’s about five minutes to show time and she can feel her phone buzzing in her purse. No doubt that she has numerous messages and calls from Monty and Bellamy wondering where the hell she is.

Clarke sucks in a thin breath and blows it out in a whoosh, wipes the palms of her hands on her red, A-line skirt and tries to build herself up to go in. There’s a rumble of chatter coming out of every crevice of the place, a vibration of laughter from the people who have shown up to watch them sing. Yet, she knows where her attention will be all night.

She hasn’t spoken to him since she ran from his place after…after _that thing_ she had and she doesn’t know how to face him now. What does she even say? It’s not like she can even explain herself or tell him where she wants to go from here. She’s still terrified, still doesn’t trust anything and maybe that’s the problem. She does trust Bellamy - but not enough. A symptom of the damage. It's not him, it's all her.

Her white sweater feels too tight now, her skirt much too short. Her blonde curls are caught under the strap of her guitar case and she just wishes she was back at her apartment. Not here, afraid to face the music - literally.

‘You know Clarke, if you push it, it opens’ Miller’s voice rises over her shoulder and he smirks while passing her, pushing the door in front of them open to reveal the bar inside.

Clarke winces. She has to go in now.

She follows the oblivious Miller into Northern Lights, making a beeline straight passed the bar towards the stage. Monty is plugging in the speakers and he holds out his hands at her, eyes wide like he’s wondering where the hell she has been.

‘Sorry’ Clarke tells him as she climbs the stairs, eyes down because she’s desperate to avoid seeing Bellamy. _Just get through this._

She starts setting up, giving a forced smile when she hears the wolf whistles and cheers coming from her friends table. They always try to show up and support them, depending on work and other commitments. Clarke knows that Raven and Miller are there for sure, probably Harper and Jackson too. She doesn’t dare glance over to check in case she meets Bellamy’s eye somewhere in the room. _Why is she so fucking afraid of this? Why can’t she just be normal?_

‘Ready?’ Monty says all too soon and before she knows it, they’re starting.

She makes it through the first few songs easily, eyes focused either on Monty or at her feet - never at the crowd. Northern Lights is dark, save for the soft fairy lights around the candles on the tables and there’s a massive spot shining down on them - pulling everyone's focus to the stage. She knows though that the bar is right behind the crowd, a direct line as both bar and stage face off with one another.

And she knows behind that bar, Bellamy is probably there. Serving along with Murphy, watching her ignore him. Clarke’s throat tightens and her skin tingles. This isn’t fair to him.

When Monty starts playing the chords to ‘How to Save a Life’, Clarke knows which song comes next. _Fuck_. The nerves usually aren’t as strong anymore, not when she’s done this a few times, but tonight her whole nervous system is in overdrive. She shifts on her stool, Monty across from her on his own one as they play to the crowd.

They receive an applause and a cheer from Raven, like they do after each song and then they flow straight into their other new one, their final song before their break. Clarke’s fingers fall into time with Monty’s as the muscle memory takes over. She couldn’t sleep last night so instead, just forced herself to practice this song until the tears were dried up and her fingertips were indented and calloused from the hard strings.

The music pours out from both of their instruments and Clarke takes a breath, grateful that her part to join isn't until the chorus.

_‘Well, I trust you. But not enough to place this gun in your hands.’_

Clarke swallows, tries to focus on her fingers moving over the strings. Monty's voice is beautiful but the lyrics are cutting her, deeper and deeper with each passing one.

 _‘I’ve got a past you couldn’t understand’_ Monty sings, killing her with every word. All she can think of is dark curls and burning brown eyes - freckles she promised to learn by memory.

_‘I could love you but that alone is the reason why I can’t. Love is nothing but a weakness.’_

Clarke’s breath comes out in a shudder and she has to force herself to keep it together. _It’s not just Bellamy out there_ \- she tries telling herself that. But to her, he’s the only one in this whole room. She senses he’s there, feels his eyes on her without ever having to look up.

_‘Shaky hands and your lips. I feel too safe around you. I can’t afford to let you love me.’_

Fuck. Her heart rips open every time they sing this. Clarke closes her eyes and takes a breath, finally letting her voice come out to join Monty.

 _‘And I will run. And I will run. Because lovers love and then lovers leave. And if you say you love me…’_ Clarke doesn’t know why but her eyes open in that moment and the first person she sees is Bellamy, braced against the bar as he watches them sing. _‘Then where does that leave me?’_

His eyes are on her, a look she can’t seem to read in them. Not from this distance anyway. He looks sad, frozen to the spot as Murphy works around him. His dark hair is messier than usual, his black t-shirt stretched tight around his muscular frame. His appearance serves Clarke a hard punch to the gut but she can’t afford to be shaken. Not when she’s singing the next verse. Her voice, alone for the first time in this song, echoes around the bar.

_‘I don’t trust you, cause you’re everything that I’ve been praying for.’_

She keeps her eyes on him, a direct contrast from earlier. Now, she can’t seem to look away. His brown eyes are locked on her blues, over the crowd and straight through her - into her soul, like he seems to have the ability to do.

_‘And I’m scared that you won’t find what you came looking for. I can’t love you when I can’t even learn to love myself. Love is nothing but a weakness.’_

Clarke’s voice is powerful, not reflecting how she feels at all. The way Bellamy looks at her makes her skin burn, the way his tense form is completely still. This song is resonating with him too.

 _‘Shaky hands and your lips. I feel too safe around you_ ’ Clarke’s voice cracks and Bellamy’s head lifts, eyes still on her. ‘ _I’m begging please just break me in.’_

Clarke is grateful that Monty joins her again now, relieved that he’s taking some of the focus off her own voice that is starting to quiver in certain places.

_‘And I will run. And I will run. Because lovers love and then lovers leave. And if you say you love me, then where does that leave me?’_

Clarke’s chest heaves when she falls silent, allowing Monty to sing the next part. When she looks back up, Bellamy hasn’t moved at all. He shakes his head slightly, a silent ask that falls straight on Clarke’s ears. She knows what he’s asking. _Please don’t do this._

She’s allowing her fear to swallow her whole - and they’re losing each other. But the boulder is already rolling, a large ball of destruction pulled by gravity downhill as it wrecks everything in its way.

_‘Where does that leave me? Dying on the ground asking why I couldn’t see. Cause every devil that I’ve ever loved looked just like a saint.’_

Clarke closes her eyes, joining in with Monty once more.

_‘So would you hold my soul and whisper close that you will never change.’_

She can’t do this. It’s too much.

_‘You should leave. Don’t walk away. Cause my past and all this empty space is gonna kill me anyways.’_

Clarke gets up from her stool, mouthing a quick ‘I’m sorry’ to Monty as she steps off the stage. Monty keeps singing, brow furrowed as he wonders what the hell she’s doing. Raven stands as Clarke passes but she can’t stop. Tears are blurring her eyes and every molecule inside of her is screaming at her to get out.

She’s just at the door to leave when a hand curls around her bicep.

‘Clarke.’

His voice makes shivers dance the whole way down her spine. Clarke closes her eyes, the tears spilling out over her cheeks.

‘I can’t do this, Bellamy’ she tells him, unable to look at him. She feels the metal handle under her skin, yearns to pull it open and for Bellamy to just let her go.

‘Come upstairs with me and we can talk about this.’

His voice has shakes of his own, concern dripping from every corner of it. He’s worried for them, confused, upset from seeing her so upset.

 

_‘Baby, whatever happens - we get through it together. That’s the deal, right?’_

_Bellamy is nuzzling his nose into Clarke’s neck, soothing her as she cries._

_‘I know. I just didn’t want to bother you with crap about work. They said if we don’t sell at least five paintings by the end of the week, we risk going bust.’_

_‘You’ll sell them. Even if I have to buy them myself’ Bellamy squeezes her close and it makes Clarke chuckle, despite herself._

_‘You can’t afford milk most days’ she teases, a watery laugh escaping her as he tickles her sides. He always makes her feel better. They fall silent against one another and Clarke lets herself inhale him - he makes her feel so safe, even when the world feels like it’s crashing down around her._

_‘I’m scared’ she whispers. She loves her job so much, the gallery is everything she’s worked for - built from scratch through her own blood, sweat and tears._

_‘There’s nothing to be afraid of, baby’ Bellamy says softly. ‘As long as we have each other, nothing else matters. Don’t be scared.’_

 

His voice fades out and Monty’s singing fades in, bringing Clarke back to reality. She snaps her eyes open, her chest rising and falling harder now. Fuck - is she sick? Is she losing her mind?

‘Clarke’ Bellamy calls her but she still can’t make herself look at him. What the hell is happening to her? _Don’t be scared._

‘Bellamy’ she lets out a sob, the music creating a soft background noise for the heartbreak. ‘I have to go.’

He doesn’t say anything, hand still resting on her arm gently for a few more moments until she finally feels him release his grip. Clarke doesn’t know if she’s relieved or even more hurt that he's letting her go.

Before he can watch her cry anymore, she yanks open the door and lets the night air wash over her as she disappears into the night.

 

-

 

The duffle bag on Clarke’s bed contains a few pieces of clothes and some of her most prized possessions. A photo of her dad, the watch he gave her and a couple of books that she likes to re-read.

It’s the hardest thing in the world to leave, not made any easier by calling her mother. The morning light seeps in through her curtains as Clarke bites her lip, legs folded under her on her bed.

‘Clarke?’ Her mother’s voice, perky and gentle, comes through the phone and fuck. It’s enough to crumble the wall that Clarke had been trying to keep up around herself.

‘Mom?’ Her voice wobbles, a sob following soon after it.

‘Honey, what’s wrong?’ The concern in her tone mirrors Bellamy’s from last night. Clarke can barely catch her breath to answer.

‘I need to come home for a while’ she manages through her tears, the words sounding pitiful and awful spoken out loud.

‘I’ll come and get you’ her mother says quickly, almost like it’s instinct. ‘I’ll be there in an hour.’

She doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t push for information like she’d normally do. She must sense that this isn’t something stupid - her daughter needs saving. Desperately.

Clarke wipes away her tears roughly and continues to pack her bag. She moves out to the living room and opens the door, deciding that she’ll wait for her mother on the steps below her building. Before she goes, she returns to grab more clothes that are sprawled across her couch - she probably doesn’t have enough for how long she’s going for.

Clarke is just shoving them into the bag when a voice echoes through her apartment.

‘Going somewhere?’

Bellamy is standing at her front door, eyes heavy on her as he calculates the situation before him. He’s wearing the same clothes from last night but his eyes look tired, like he’s been having trouble sleeping too. He still looks good though and Clarke hates it, hates that she knows what kind of a man he is as well as being so out of her league gorgeous. She is so fucking in love with him, someone so wonderful and amazing - and all of that is what she’s going to lose if she pursues this.

‘Yeah’ Clarke manages, knowing how she must look. Duffle bag open on the couch in front of her, eyes red raw from crying. Bellamy's eyes fall to the bag, sensing what this is. _She's leaving him._

'Clarke. No.' It's like he's waiting for her to deny it, tell him that it's only going to be for a few days and she'll come back. But she can't do that. Her silence is all he needs to confirm it. ‘Please don’t do this’ he says quietly, stepping into her apartment.

He's not making this easy - not that she thought it would be. It's hard enough to just leave without facing him, but having him here begging her to stay? It feels impossible. She counts every moment between them before finding her voice.

‘Bellamy-’

‘Please, Clarke. I know you’re afraid.’ _Don’t be scared._

Bellamy grows closer to her but she takes a step back automatically, terrified of being around him now. Every time she’s had one of those _things_ , he’s been there. Something is happening to her and she’s frightened out of her mind. Not to mention desperate to run from being in love with Bellamy. She can’t do this to herself again - there needs to be a bit of space. Space to forget him, to let these feelings die.

Bellamy looks wounded, misery clouding his eyes. He shifts uncomfortably, an obvious fear growing inside of him.

‘I can’t stay here’ she shakes her head at him, her voice a mere whisper.

His brown eyes are so full of emotion, Clarke thinks she might fall into them. She can barely cope with how he’s looking at her and it takes every fortitude she has to keep her mind set. She can't give in - she's almost afraid of the fear at this point.

‘Where you gonna go?’ he asks after a few beats of silence, his voice catching a little - shaky in the space between words.

'My mom's.'

‘Clarke’ his tone elevates, eyes widening like he’s starting to panic. ‘Just talk to me. I promise, whatever is going on in your head - we can work it out. I’ll understand, I can help you.’

She shakes her head at him more firmly now. He could never understand. If she could even try to vocalise her fear properly, that might be the only thing he’d get. The visions or dreams or whatever the fuck they are, forget about it.

‘Bellamy’ she sighs, frustration building. Her green sweater hangs off one shoulder and she scoops it up, zipping her duffle bag closed in a far too aggressive manner. ‘I’m leaving.’

‘ _No_ ’ Bellamy almost yells now, adamant. ‘We can sort this out. I know you’re scared but goddamnit Clarke, you can’t run from everything.’

A sore spot. Clarke’s nostrils flare.

‘We can do this together, just like everything else. If you just let me, I can-’

‘Bellamy!’ Clarke cuts him off, rounding on him as red fog rolls in on her brain. Fight or flight kicks in and the words spill out of her mouth, unbidden and unmonitored. ‘Stop! I’ve told you, I can’t do this and both of us know that this is becoming more. I told you I wasn’t having anything like this again, you knew how I felt.’

Bellamy straightens himself, scoffing. ‘This isn’t just on me, Princess. Don’t act like I forced you into anything.’

He did. Not purposefully, not intentionally - but fuck, Clarke was drawn to him like a magnet. He gave her no option but to fall for him by just being himself. Maybe she hates herself for even getting here, maybe that’s where the anger is stemming from.

‘Get out of my way’ Clarke bites out, duffle bag in hand as he side steps her.

‘Talk to me’ he demands, every soft line becoming sharp like a razor.

‘Move, Bellamy.’

‘ _Talk to me_.’

‘Jesus!’ Clarke can’t help the explosion inside her chest. ‘Stop trying to look after me just because you couldn’t look after Octavia!’

It’s out of Clarke’s mouth before she can catch it. She doesn’t mean it but fuck, Bellamy looks like he just got slapped. A heavy silence drapes the room, thick and suffocating as Clarke watches the hurt in Bellamy’s eyes turn into cold, hard betrayal.

They stare at each other for what feels like forever, him daring her to explain that she didn’t mean that and Clarke being physically unable to. She hates that she’s hurt him but fuck, she can see no other way to make him back off now. So, she lets the words sit - heavy on half her heart because the other part of the muscle has surely died.

Bellamy turns on his heel, his heavy footfalls echoing as he strides towards the door - steady like it’s happening in slow motion.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

It takes Clarke a second to realise the sound is only her heartbeat, pounding in her ears. She barely hears him speak as he reaches the door, his voice sounding like it’s coming to her underwater.

‘Have a nice life, Princess.’

He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t look at Clarke. Bellamy just keeps walking until he rounds the door, disappearing out of her life for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Important information** : The [Bellarke Fanwork Awards](https://bfwa.tumblr.com) have begun taking their nominations for this year. If you feel like putting forward Waste It on Me or any of my other fics, I'd be eternally grateful and a sobbing mess. It's such a wonderful event, acknowledging bellarke fic writers/content creators for all the time and effort they put into their work. Even if you aren't nominating me, I encourage everyone to put forward their favourite fics for the voting rounds because it means so much. You can find the link to put forward nominations [here](https://bfwa.typeform.com/to/jHtaGW). Spread some love and positivity, if you have some spare time :) love you all.
> 
> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	18. I Still Don't Measure Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Good To You' by Marianas Trench.
> 
> This song was actually recommended to me by @Bellarke_Love - a reader of Waste It on Me. It suited the fic so well that I listened to it so much while writing, so thank you very much for the suggestion. I love to hear inputs like that on this fic and I adore any and all edits made for it.
> 
> Your responses were FIRE for the last chapter. I love the passion and really appreciate you all being so kind and lovely and supportive. This chapter isn't as long as others but the next chapter will make up for it, I promise.

Bellamy hasn’t worked in his own bar since Wednesday - since the night Clarke ran from his stage, emotion and unspoken words locked behind her brick facade.

Time has blended together this past week, hours flowing like water into the slim neck of an hourglass. It’s hard to grab onto anything tangible, there’s just a thick glaze of cloud over his life. Bellamy adjusts himself in his seat, feeling completely numb. He remembers the moments that lead him here like sharp bolts of lightning in a very long storm.

The first was Clarke jolting up from his couch on Monday, the guitar thrumming on the ground like a gong as if it was setting up the moment. Bellamy had watched her with curiosity, hope inside his chest waiting to be set free.

_Had she had a memory?_

_Was she starting to let herself fall in love with him?_

He expected her to run but damn, he really thought that after she processed it, she’d come back. It shouldn’t have shocked him that she didn’t show up to Northern Lights on Tuesday night, but still - it felt foreign without her presence in the bar. She had become a constant piece of the furniture, now all that remains is her ghost.

The second snap of lightning was her singing on stage with Monty.

Bellamy could see it from a mile off that she was uncomfortable, desperate to avoid eye contact with him and that fucking hurt. He watched her sing _that_ song, watched each lyric destroy her and he yearned to hold her. To tell her it was okay, that nothing bad would happen. The lyrics sank into him and he couldn't take his eyes off her.

_‘Well, I trust you. But not enough to place this gun in your hands. I've got a past you couldn't understand.'_

Bellamy had to swallow. She doesn't trust him enough - that's the sad truth of this whole thing. Fuck. She looked so broken up there and Bellamy was becoming uneasy. Whatever was ahead of them, it's like he could already sense it.

_'I could love you but that alone is the reason why I can’t. Love is nothing but a weakness.'_

He was stuck to the bar floor, Murphy carrying crates of alcohol around him as Bellamy carried a weight of his own.

_'Shaky hands and your lips. I feel too safe around you. I can’t afford to let you love me.'_

Bellamy willed Clarke to look at him. This was her reality - she couldn't let him in, not enough to get that close. Bellamy had wondered if she'd ever let her walls down and it was becoming more and more unlikely as time went on. The thought that he could actually lose her terrified him.

_'And I will run. And I will run. Because lovers love and then lovers leave. And if you say you love me, then where does that leave me?'_

When her eyes finally landed on his, it was like a force of nature. The wind knocked from his lungs and the actual distance between them felt like lightyears. He could see the panic inside of her and every fibre of his being begged her to just let him in.

_‘I don’t trust you, cause you’re everything that I’ve been praying for. And I’m scared that you won’t find what you came looking for. I can’t love you when I can’t even learn to love myself. Love is nothing but a weakness.’_

_Fuck, Clarke_. When she darted near the end of the song, Bellamy was ready for it. He cut her off at the door, holding her arm and trying to ignore the bubbling panic inside of him. God, s _he couldn't even look at him_. He watched her slip into what was probably another memory and then let her go when she said she needed to - he couldn't make her talk about it yet. But fuck, he wanted to.

If she was falling for him, he wanted her to know that it was okay. He’d be there to catch her, to love her right back. He could explain the memories and flashes to her, give her the paperwork and let her absorb it. She didn’t have to do this alone.

That was the best outcome though and Bellamy knew it would never happen. Clarke was running from this and he knew it. He couldn’t blame her - she was afraid. Love had damaged her in the past, broken her down until there was nothing left of her to give.

Her parents set the marker for it, only to be fuelled by her own experiences. Previous relationships warped her perception of love, made her untrusting of the process and pessimistic to their longevity. They calcified the doubt, scarred the fear into her even deeper.

Bellamy gets it. His own experiences damaged him. Watching his mother fall into the hole of depression, give herself up to it time and time again - it was gut wrenching.

Even on her good days, she refused help. Bellamy had begged her to see a doctor, begged her to talk to someone or try some medication - anything to get her back on her feet before she would inevitably go into the dark wood again. Aurora would tell him that she was fine now, that she had no intention of getting that bad again. Bellamy always knew better - it wasn’t something that could be stopped by willpower. It came down to chemistry and his mother needed professional help.

When she died and Bellamy fell into his own pit, alcohol pooled at the bottom of it. When he was sober, he always told himself and others that he could stop whenever he wanted. It was the harsh slap of reality that hit him when Octavia told him he was no better than their mother. He was letting his addiction swallow him, just like his mom let her illness consume her.

Of course Octavia would see it like that, see their mother’s illness as something so trivial as if one could just get over it - but her words were enough to pull him out of himself. Grief was something Bellamy couldn’t handle, coupled with the guilt of being away while his mother died and his sister took care of her.

He never learned to cope with it - was never taught how to deal with anything. He floated through the fear and anxiety of his childhood, distracted himself later on through work and drank the rest of it. Avoidance is his go-to coping mechanism, just like running is Clarke’s.

Through the fog, Bellamy can remember the next lightning bolt - arriving at her apartment to see her standing there with a bag packed on Thursday morning.

He knew what was happening before he even asked but his heart refused to admit it. She’s running, really running. Leaving him - refusing to accept their fate. He had no doubt that she’s been getting memories, witnessed her have two already. He desperately wanted to explain them to her, reassure her that it’s normal and nothing is wrong with her.

He knows how he felt when it started happening to him.

Clarke has been so guarded, so careful about keeping her feelings in check but they’re spiralling now. She’s falling for him and he can’t even be relieved about it. He knew she’d reject it, try to deny it - push him away. He was prepared for this, expected it on some level - but it doesn’t make it any less painful. And there was clearly nothing he could do to stop it.

He remembers the panic rising within him, the desperation flooding him. He had begged her not to go but she sounded certain, mind set on leaving to her mothers. The fear inside her must have been intense to drive her to that.

Bellamy should have let her. What she didn’t need in that moment was to be forced, bullied into facing something that she wasn’t ready for. Maybe she’d have come to terms with it herself, come back when she had processed everything. What drove Bellamy was the latter. He was afraid she’d leave and stay gone, decide that this isn’t what she wanted and never get another memory again - fall out of love with him as the space between them grew wider and put the flashes down to stress.

So he pushed her. Apparently to breaking point.

‘Get out of my way’ she ordered him.

‘Talk to me’ he hit back.

‘Move, Bellamy.’

‘ _Talk to me_.’

‘Jesus!’ Clarke snapped. ‘Stop trying to look after me just because you couldn’t look after Octavia!’

It was a low blow. Had those words really just left her mouth? Bellamy absorbed the hit, felt the pain everywhere as it flowed through muscle and vein. He waited for her to take it back, could see it in her eyes that she regretted it but her mouth stayed firmly closed.

He should have expected the outburst - he cornered her and like a wild animal, scared and desperate to flee, she attacked.

It didn’t stop the feeling of pure and utter betrayal. Bellamy knew then that it was over between the two of them. It couldn’t be salvaged, whatever they had or could have been. Clarke was on lockdown, shutting him out. And Bellamy couldn’t make her love him.

So he left.

He’s absolutely heartbroken. Clarke doesn’t want him, no matter what fate says. She still has a choice - a choice to let herself be in this or not. And destiny gets no say in that choice. She’s his choice, he’d choose her again and again. Even after everything, Bellamy is so fucking in love with her. Tears prick his eyes and he cradles his head in his hands.

Fuck, he feels like he could drown in this feeling. Friday didn't exactly help either. He had gone to the office asking for confirmation, not feeling any better after getting it or coming upon his realisation there.

‘Have you even been to bed?’ Bellamy hears Murphy’s voice through thick cotton. He’s slow to lift his eyes to him but when he does, he sees Murphy removing his jacket like he’s getting ready for work.

‘It’s Monday’ Bellamy mumbles. ‘Why are you here? We’re closed.’

‘It’s Wednesday’ Murphy snaps, swiping the glass out from Bellamy’s fingers. ‘And you haven’t been sober since Friday.’

‘Who are you, my mother?’ Bellamy slurs, leaning up to reach over the bar. He grabs another bottle of whiskey and slumps back into his stool. Like he said, he’s not built for grief.

‘Your _mother_ ,’ Murphy takes that bottle off him too. ‘Would be ashamed of you. You swore you’d never drink in Northern Lights.’

‘Piss off, Murphy’ Bellamy grumbles, getting truly irritated now. He doesn’t want to be reminded of that. ‘Give me back my drink. I own them.’

‘Didn't think petulance was your thing' Murphy moves the bottle out of reach. 'We’re two staff members down since Clarke left, you need-’

‘MURPHY!’ Bellamy roars, the deep undertone of his voice vibrating through the empty bar. The mention of her name is too much. ‘Give me back my drink or you’re fired.’

Murphy blinks at him.

They’ve never so much as had an angry word with one another. Not really. Bellamy has often been grumpy and Murphy has been annoying, but they’ve never fought. Not once. Bellamy took him in when he opened the bar, when Murphy was in the exact same position as Bellamy right now - relying on drink to get him through grief. He knows Bellamy’s story with alcohol too but he’s never had to face it. Not like this.

‘You can’t be serious.’

‘Give me my drink’ Bellamy tries to get up again but ends up stumbling, right off his stool and onto the ground.

He thinks he landed on his shoulder, even though the pain is barely there. He vaguely registers Murphy helping him up and time starts jumping. Sunlight dripping through his balcony window, Murphy pushing open his apartment door, the softness of his mattress.

Clarke’s face in his mind's eye.

 _Darkness_.

 

-

 

Bellamy’s dreams are plagued by Clarke. It’s not them in a previous life, it’s pain fabricating a place in this life where they can be happy.

They move into the apartment above Northern Lights and Bellamy makes Clarke breakfast every morning. He fucks her twice before they open the bar and she sings on his stage. She finds something that makes her happy and she does that too - and they’re so fucking happy together. Two soulmates, lucky as hell to have found one another.

They dance at night on the balcony, the stars staring down at their love in pure admiration. They share cigarettes as the sun comes up and talk about previous lives. When he kisses her, he can almost believe it’s real.

There are no mean words exchanged. Everything goes back to the way it was before, where they support one another and lean on each other for guidance. Bellamy is good to her and more than that, he’s _good enough_ for her.

Clarke sees him - really sees him. He’s no longer someone who is just her best friend or her fuck buddy - no, he’s her soulmate and she wants a relationship and a future with him. She isn’t afraid to love him.

Each time he wakes up, the illusion shatters. Reality sets in. Clarke is gone and she’s not coming back. Bellamy allows the craving to win, the desire to be numb and not feel anything at all.

He decides he is a little lucky - he owns a bar full of alcohol. He’ll take good graces where he can find them these days.

 

-

 

 

** THE FRIDAY BEFORE **

 

 

Bellamy taps his fingers on the steering wheel of his rover, building himself up.

Yesterday had been awful. He never knew Clarke to be so callous, so cruel. Emotions were running high between the two of them and even though he could understand why those words were said, they still hurt. She’s still turned away from him, shut him out.

The thought didn’t strike him until last night - maybe she doesn’t want him. Not like that. Maybe she knows exactly what these memory flashes are and she’s choosing to ignore it. Maybe he was just a good fuck to her and that’s all she wanted it to be. Accidentally catching feelings wasn’t on her bucket list and now, Clarke is choosing to walk away.

Bellamy has to know. He has to know if soulmates work in some lives and not others. The fear is gripping him - what if in this life, he has to get on without her? How could he live like that? Knowing what it’s like to love her, to kiss her, to have spent multiple lives together already?

There’s nothing in the research about this - so he’s determined to find out another way.

Bellamy gets out, slamming his door behind him before making his way into the bright hospital. Phones ringing and the sound of machines buzz around him as he walks through the hallway, winding his way to neurology. God, he fucking hates this place.

It’s early morning and Bellamy checks his watch, figuring he should have enough time to do what he needs to do here and go home. He had left Harper and Murphy short staffed last night because he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to serve customers. He could barely tell his friends that Clarke was gone. He told them a soft version of the story - he and Clarke were fucking and they messed things up. He wanted more, she didn’t. It wasn’t a lie.

Bellamy reaches Dr. Kane’s office door and knocks briefly before letting himself in. The woman is thankfully there, standing on the other side of her desk as she gathers files like she’s in a hurry. She looks up when he comes in, taking a few seconds to register who he is.

‘Mr. Blake, is it?’ She remembers, smiling slightly before she continues to collect her things.

‘Bellamy’ he confirms.

Dr. Kane is shoving papers into her briefcase, looking a little frazzled. ‘I’m sorry, you’ll have to make an appointment. I’m not working today.’

It’s only then that Bellamy notices her attire. She’s wearing casual jeans and a sweater, her brown hair spilling over her shoulders untamed.

‘I just need a few minutes’ Bellamy assures her, closing the door behind him. He needs answers.

‘I have a family thing, my daughter is home and she’s-’ Dr. Kane waves her hand. ‘My point is I don’t really have a few minutes.’

It’s not unkind, just to the point. Bellamy imagines her head isn’t really here with her.

‘Please’ Bellamy tries.

Dr. Kane sighs and the shuffling of papers stop. ‘I promise you, Bellamy. It’s soulmates and reincarnation and everything that you’ve hopefully read about. If you want extra tests-’

‘No, I know it’s soulmates’ Bellamy nods. ‘I just don’t think my soulmate wants this.’

He feels stupid even saying this out loud. Dr. Kane looks at him now, focusing on his features. She must sense his heartbreak, be able to see it clouding over him like a shadow. Her expression transforms into sympathy and she straightens.

‘She just needs some time’ she says gently, her previous rush forgotten.

‘No, she’s had time’ Bellamy shakes his head, hands leaning on the chair in front of him. His legs feel like jelly because he’s terrified to be told that Clarke may never let herself love him. That this really is a possibility. ‘I think she’s been having the memories too but she doesn’t want anything more with me.’

Dr. Kane frowns. ‘If she’s having the memories, it means she’s falling in love with you.’

‘I know’ Bellamy bites his lip, willing his heart to calm down. The prospect of Clarke loving him should be exciting, except it’s dampened by this awful wave of doubt. ‘But she doesn’t want it.’

He can see Dr. Kane taking a breath and he knows by her face that she feels sorry for him.

‘Bellamy’ she says softly and he has to close his eyes - he knows by her tone that what she’s about to say will crush him. ‘Soulmates fall in love by nature but are together by choice. No force on this Earth can alter free will. I’m sorry, but if she doesn’t want it - love or fate won’t prevail.’

Bellamy can feel his heart splitting and a tear escapes his eye. Here he is, loving Clarke and wanting her more than anything in this world - and not just because the universe says he’s supposed to. He chose her by himself, wants her by himself. Through his own free will. And it’s not returned.

‘You really love her, don’t you?’

‘Guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?’ Bellamy mumbles.

The sharp noise of Dr. Kane’s phone ringing fills the office.

‘Sorry, it’s my daughter’ she tells him but Bellamy waves his hand, signalling that it’s okay. It’s not like he needs to hear anything else anyway. It’s a confirmation of what he already knew - there’s absolutely nothing he can do about any of this. ‘Clarke, honey, are you okay?’

Bellamy’s head snaps up. _What did she just say?_

‘Sorry, I should have left a note. I’m just collecting a few things from the office, I’ve told them I’m taking some vacation days’ Dr. Kane goes on, oblivious to Bellamy’s dumbfounded expression. ‘I know I don’t have to but I want to. Do you need anything while I’m out?’

Fuck. _Dr. Kane is Clarke’s mother_.

All the pieces seem to slot together in Bellamy’s mind. Her mother - a doctor, the story of her mom leaving her dad, finding her soulmate at the hospital. Remarrying. Shit, no wonder Dr. Kane believes in this so much - she’s found her own soulmate.

‘Okay. We’ll talk about this whole thing out when you’re ready.’

Bellamy pales. _How can this be?_

He turns on his heel, pulling open the door and darting from her office before she can say anything. Fuck.

His head is spinning. His heart is breaking and life seems absolutely pointless now that Clarke is gone. What do you do when you’re soulmate wants nothing to do with you?

As Bellamy slots his keys into the ignition of his rover, he decides the answer to that all too easily.

Drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Update** : The [Bellarke Fanwork Awards](https://bfwa.tumblr.com) have begun and for those of you who don't know, my fics and I were actually nominated _30 times_. Waste It on Me got a good few nominations amongst them. My head is still spinning. Thank you all so much if you nominated me, it's surreal to be placed in categories with such amazing writers and creators. If you have time, you can now [vote](https://bfwa.typeform.com/to/OyTT1I) for your favourites to make it to round one winners.
> 
> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	19. No Right to Love You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'No Right To Love You' by Rhys Lewis (the acoustic version). Again, a very appropriate song for Clarke's perspective.
> 
> I'm sorry for the delay with this update. I wanted it to be just right and I felt if I posted it on the weekend, it would have been rushed and I wouldn't have been happy with it. Thank you for your patience.
> 
> I love and appreciate all of your comments. Your passion for this story just fuels mine, you are all incredible - even those who have absolute death on Clarke for how she has handled this with Bellamy (perhaps rightly so!)  
> Just keep in mind that it is difficult to judge a pain if you haven't endured it 💛

The drip is steady, little droplets of water falling from the shoot above Clarke’s window. Even though it isn’t raining anymore, the runoff is comforting to watch as the drops fall in time with her heartbeat.

She can’t even begin to process what’s happened in the past few days. All she can think about is Bellamy’s face when she said those words - those words that came out of her mouth unheeded, that she never meant to say. And she let them sit because she wanted a way out. Clarke never knew she could be so fucking selfish.

It had been so easy to fall for him, despite her adamant perception on the subject. How could she hurt the person that was there for her through everything? Who healed her in so many ways, who gave her hope.

_What has she done?_

‘Clarke?’

When she turns her head, her mother is leaning against her door frame. She’s dressed in a comfy, grey sweater and jeans, her hair tousled over her shoulders. She looks so different. Clarke grew up seeing her mother in pant suits and white coats, her hair constantly neat and makeup on her face all the time. It’s so strange to see her so relaxed, so at ease.

‘You’re back’ Clarke tries to smile but it feels false, probably doesn’t look much better. Her mother was gone this morning when she woke up, apparently just collecting a few things from the hospital so she could take a few days off.

‘You sounded upset on the phone’ her mother reminds her and Clarke closes her eyes, letting herself drift back to the panic of this morning.

She had woken up in a sweat, anxiety gripping the base of her throat. It was hard to breathe, hard to settle herself. After her confrontation with Bellamy, coming back to her mom’s had been a blur. Her mother didn’t push her to talk about it, another thing that feels different with them, so Clarke just spent the day sleeping - exhausted from everything.

This morning was a sharp reminder of the pain she had been numb to, guilt and heartbreak swimming in her chest. She was so fucking horrible to Bellamy and even though she’s apart from him, she’s still having these visions or whatever the hell they are. Running didn’t stop her from experiencing anything, didn’t stop any of the feelings she had back at her apartment. She might as well have just stayed where she was.

In the midst of her emotional breakdown this morning, she had called her mother - because apparently, that’s what she does now. A few months ago, when she was dying on her couch from the worst flu of her life, she had point blank refused to even acknowledge the woman. Now, it’s like she needs her to stand. Like this trauma in her emotional life might kill her and she’s more lost than ever.

She thought she was hurt before after Finn, when she sat in Bellamy’s bar and drank too many of his bottles. She thought she was lost then, floating in the middle of a life she didn’t recognise.

It’s nothing compared to now.

‘I’m okay’ Clarke assures her, having calmed down a little. The numbness is setting back in.

‘Well, I’m going to fix us some lunch soon’ her mom says gently. ‘Maybe we could take a walk afterwards?’

‘Yeah, maybe’ Clarke gives her a tight lipped smile, grateful that her mother is trying to be there for her. She’s still not sure how to talk about everything, still figuring out how to get along with Abby after being at odds with her for so long. It’s a learning curve for the both of them.

Abby lingers at the door for a few moments too long, like she’s trying to decide on the best course of action. In the end, she leaves Clarke to her thoughts - and really, Clarke isn’t sure if that’s what she wants at all.

Space seemed like the best idea when she was leaving her apartment - now, all she wants is a hug from Bellamy. For him to tell her that everything is okay. That there’s nothing to be afraid of.

 

_Clarke is in a shallow wood, a gun in her hand as she searches for the suspect. The place is deathly quiet and she feels too on edge, lost without Bellamy beside her._

_She’s about to lift her wrist to her mouth to tell Bellamy that she’s lost visual when a hand grabs her arm holding her gun while another slips around her throat. The Unsub has her, backing into a tree in order to hide behind it._

_Clarke’s heart is racing, panic soaring through her. Shit, she's in trouble here._

_She’s trying to shout but he’s almost suffocating her with his grip, the smell of sweat and his awful scent engulfing her. In the midst of her struggle, Clarke's gun fires into the ground and she hopes to God that Bellamy has heard it._

_The Unsub disarms her and there’s a rough scuffle after that, Clarke trying to regain the upper hand while the man behind her tries to keep his own form of power. Her navy FBI jacket flashes in her vision, mixed together with quick sequences of the ground and the autumn leaves. She manages to land a few punches but it’s not enough, this guy is too quick and too forceful. A product of panic within himself, Clarke realises._

_She ends up back where she started - on her feet, disorientated, a split lip and her back against the Unsub. His arm is around her throat but Clarke’s mouth is free. Not that it matters, she’s gasping for air after being winded by his attack and he’s squeezing against her windpipe, limiting her oxygen. He seems to have found her gun as well - brilliant._

_He’s aiming it forward and it’s only then that Clarke seems to put the whole thing together. Her heart seizes, flicking her eyes up and willing them to focus. She finds herself staring into Bellamy’s gun a few feet away and it takes mere seconds to realise that the Unsub is aiming his own weapon at Bellamy._

_‘Hands where I can see them, Emerson. Don’t be an idiot’ Bellamy says, his voice filling Clarke with a fuzzy feeling. ‘You’re surrounded.’_

_‘I’ll kill her’ Emerson, announces against Clarke’s ear. ‘I want to walk away from here or I’ll snap her neck and blow your brains out.’_

_Panic surges inside her veins and she feels manic. No, she can't let him die. The love she has for him pounds drums inside her ears, can feel it right there underneath her skin. His dark curls are familiar and she imagines that the look of alarm in his wide eyes mirrors her own._

_S.W.A.T agents are around them, all aiming their weapons at Emerson. They don’t have a clear shot and neither does Bellamy. Clarke is in the way._

_‘Take…the…shot’ she struggles out, locking eyes with him._

_‘Put the gun down, Carl. Let’s talk about this’ Bellamy ignores her._

_‘Take the shot, Blake’ Clarke strains as loud as she’s able._

_‘Shut up, Clarke!’ Bellamy yells back, seemingly a little distracted by her in this amount of danger. He should be keeping a clear head._

_Clarke wills any fight left in her to the surface because she has to act now. Emerson could take Bellamy out in a heartbeat. It’s a dangerous move, she could die easily here by the Unsub’s hands, but at least Bellamy will be safe._

_She struggles, pulling Emerson’s arm with her hands. The sound of her gun firing almost deafens her but like she suspected, the bullet missed Bellamy in the commotion. Bellamy is on Emerson as quick as lightning and Clarke is surprised to find herself free and pretty much unharmed, crouching on all fours on the ground._

_It was a massive risk that paid off._

_Clarke is gasping, her airway feeling like the size of a straw, cutting her like she’s trying to swallow a razor blade. It’s painful to breathe, maybe it’s the worry or maybe it’s the physical pain of trying to swallow air. All the same, Clarke draws breath like she never will again._

_A few minutes pass and she starts to regain control of her breathing. She sees cops and S.W.A.T agents pushing Carl Emerson passed her in cuffs and Clarke breathes out a sigh of relief. She lifts her head to look for Bellamy but he’s already beside her, helping her onto her feet. Clarke gets her first look at him since the ordeal._

_His face is concerned and tight with worry - but unharmed. Clarke’s heart unclenches and she can breathe easy, despite her throat burning. His fingers reach out, gently touching her face and turning it slightly so he can get a better view of her neck. Tingles shoot through her at the contact and it’s silent between them for a few moments, tender._

_Bellamy’s eyes are soft with concern and sadness, making Clarke unsure of what to say or do. She yearns to close the distance between them, fall into his arms like it’s her birthright. She shows some restraint though as Bellamy takes a good look at her. Once he knows for sure that she’s okay as can be, Clarke notices the look in his eyes change and feels a push against her shoulders._

_‘That’s twice, Clarke!’ Bellamy pushes her again. ‘Twice! Twice in two days you’ve put your life in the hands of an Unsub with a gun. Do you want to die? Do you?’_

_His expression is furious as he yells at her, soon interrupted by a cop who tells Bellamy to take a walk. He doesn’t pull his eyes away from her for a long minute but when he does, Clarke feels like the world has tipped around her. He storms off, leaving Clarke stuck to the forest floor._

_Watching him walking away from her in that moment confirms how much she loves him - and how much she wishes she could fix everything between the two of them, sort out their whole situation so that they could find a way to work._

_She can’t be in love with him in this line of work - but she is._

 

 

Clarke’s face crumples. Fuck, what the hell is happening to her? Her heart slams against her chest and worry coils every muscle inside of her. Whatever these things are, they're destroying her. Constantly reminding her of her failure, repeatedly showing her the man that she wasn't brave enough to be with. Maybe they're signs, or maybe they're just torture.

If these flashes are here to taunt her, they’re doing a good job. She’s clearly a master at fucking things up between her and Bellamy - in reality and in her dreams, it seems.

When she finally cries, her tears match in time with the drops falling outside. A steady cascade of water on both sides of the window.

 

-

 

It’s a week before Clarke speaks to her mother properly.

They’re sitting on the couch, watching episodes of the O.C as they sip their tea. Her mother has to return to work tomorrow and even though their conversations have been based around Netflix and what they’re going to eat, Clarke is going to miss her presence in the place.

When Abby left her dad, she moved into the top floor condo which perfectly reflected her lifestyle and left Clarke’s childhood home to Jake. The furniture and fixtures were all modern in her mother’s new place, chic and basic - neat and clinical just like Abby.

She told Clarke that she’d have her very own bedroom there but Clarke hated it and never spent the night because it was nothing like her comfortable bedroom back at her dad’s house. Besides, Marcus lived there too and she wanted nothing to do with either of them.

Maybe it was just that her childhood bedroom held nostalgia and that’s why she liked it so much. She had photos of her parents on her desk when they were happy and some days, Clarke could pretend that they were downstairs, still together their perfect marriage.

Maybe they were never happy and Clarke had just been blind to everything. Naive - which she has refused to be ever since.

As Clarke looks around the condo now, though, it looks different. Pieces of clothes are left unfolded and unattended on the backs of chairs. Abby has beautiful photos of her and Marcus everywhere, dotted in between photos of Clarke. Self help book titles such as ‘ _The Secret_ ’ and ‘ _Don’t Sweat The Small Stuff_ ’ are arranged on her bookshelf and if Clarke didn’t know any better, she’d say that this was someone else’s home.

Her mother was never like this. She seems like a new woman and happiness looks good on her.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about quitting medicine’ Clarke says out of the blue, knowing this is the subject that needs to be addressed before anything else. They need to bridge this gap.

Her mother’s eyes dart to hers, as if she’s shocked to hear their conversations taking a deeper turn. She’s warming her fingers around a cup of tea but she sets it down on the glass coffee table in front of her before she replies.

‘Clarke’ she sighs. ‘I’m the one that should be sorry.’

This lands Clarke. Yeah - her mom is definitely different.

‘My priorities weren’t straight before’ Abby shakes her head. ‘I was so wrapped up in this perfect lifestyle - having the perfect job, my daughter following in my footsteps, the perfect husband.’

Clarke eyes her warily, unable to detect where this conversation is going to end up.

‘I wasn’t focused on being happy. What’s the point in life if you can’t do that?’ Abby says softly.

‘What changed?’ Clarke wonders.

‘Marcus’ Abby smiles easily, a look coming into her eyes that resembles serenity.

Clarke’s heart pinches, a wave of anger bubbling because she feels defensive of her dad. But that’s not fair, she realizes. Jake wouldn’t have wanted Abby to be with him just because they were married and he definitely wouldn’t have wanted Abby to be unhappy.

Maybe that’s what the difference is - her mother is actually happy now. Marcus has been away all week, corresponding with another hospital on a complicated case, but Clarke has heard her mom on the phone with him. She never heard her laugh like that before, talk with such fondness in her tone. It makes her sad that it wasn’t like that with her dad but if nothing else, she’s glad her mom is happy now.

‘It’s easy to want to control everything when you’re not completely content. There was always something missing and when I found Marcus, everything just clicked - and I know that it’s not nice to hear. Jake will always be your dad’ her mother reaches out, squeezing Clarke’s knee. ‘And I don’t regret one second of my time with him. We had you and it was something both of us could be proud of.’

Clarke nods, tears already blurring her vision.

‘I loved your dad very much, Clarke’ Abby’s voice wobbles now too. ‘But it just wasn’t what fate had in store for me.’

Clarke grips her mother’s hand, regret filling her up even more. She was so hard on her mother, just because her choice wasn’t what Clarke had wanted. She refused to listen to anything once her parent’s split up, ignored her mother’s attempts to explain this to her all that time ago. She hated her mom for forcing medicine on her but Clarke was trying to force her choice on Abby.

‘I’m so sorry, mom’ Clarke sobs, the part of her that had been compartmentalising this pain unlocking to release another storm of emotion.

‘Oh, Clarke’ Abby scoots closer to her on the couch, wrapping her arms around her. It’s been so long since she’s had a hug from her mother. They sit like that until both of them have stopped crying and her mother breaks the silence by wiping away Clarke’s tears.

‘I don’t want you to do medicine if it doesn’t make you happy, honey’ she tells her. ‘When I heard you just quit, I panicked. I have no idea what’s going on in your life right now and I was worried about you.’

‘I know’ Clarke mumbles.

They sit together for a few moments, settling into this new atmosphere between the two of them. This conversation had been hard but it was healing, too. Still, Clarke hasn’t touched the place where she keeps the pain about Bellamy. She doesn’t think she’s ready to unpack that yet.

‘Are you okay?’

‘No’ Clarke shakes her head. She’s not okay. Things with her mother might be on the way to fixed, but how does she tell her about Bellamy and how badly she fucked up? About the worry that’s keeping her up at night over these flashes?

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘I can’t’ Clarke admits, scrubbing her face with her hand. ‘Not yet.’

Abby lets out the breath she was holding, her kind eyes sweeping over Clarke like she’s searching for an injury. ‘Well, I’m here whenever you do.’

Clarke finds it difficult to even think about Bellamy. She has no right to be thinking about him at all, it was her decision to go. When she does though, she sees Bellamy’s face when she landed him with her awful words - and then she misses him, which she also has no right to do. Next, her heart breaks further because she wishes she was brave enough to believe that things could be different this time.

And of course, every time there’s a tiny pain in her chest over Bellamy, she gets that slight pain in her head and then the flashes come.

They’re always different. Younger in some, older in others. Sometimes, they’re partners in the FBI together and other times, they seem to be in some parallel universe where an apocalypse is happening. Lately, since she left her apartment, a lot of her flashes are of her and Bellamy at odds with one another.

Clarke can’t keep up, can’t piece anything together. Fear rises within her once more because she has no idea what’s happening to her.

It’s just best if she avoids thinking about it at all.

 

-

 

On Monday, Clarke finally turns her phone on. It’s been well over a week and the messages pour in from Raven and the others. Some of them are wondering where the hell she is, others are asking if she’s okay. She has a few voicemails from Murphy and a text from him, simply telling her to call him immediately - but she just erases them all.

There’s not a single thing on her phone from Bellamy and she decides that she deserves that. He’s probably so hurt because of what she said, because she walked away from whatever they had without the courtesy of a conversation. She deserves to feel like this forever because of that.

Clarke knew what she was giving up when she walked out that door, even if the fear was stopping her from feeling anything except the urgency to escape.

She exhales a breath and starts taking the clothes out of her duffle bag, many of them creased beyond repair. She had shoved them inside in such a rush and then proceeded to leave them there all week, barely able to think about unpacking them. Unpacking means she’s staying here and she’s not sure how she feels about that.

Marcus comes home tomorrow and as good as things are between Clarke and her mother right now, she feels bad for disrupting her whole life like this. Abby didn’t even want to go back to work but Clarke made her - insisting that other people needed her more than she did.

Besides, all Clarke is doing is moping around the condo every day. Time drags by and it’s a constant effort to keep her thoughts at bay so that she avoids getting a flash about Bellamy. On top of them panicking her, it hurts to see him. He’s happy in a lot of her flashes (although not in the most recent ones), and she can kiss him and touch him and be free of everything she’s afraid of in reality.

Clarke tightens her fingers around the duffle bag, grounding herself.

She hopes that Bellamy will be happy one day - even if it’s not with her. Even if that thought kills her. She can’t have her cake and diet as well. She doesn’t want this and she has to own her decision - and he will eventually get over her.

It might hurt now but she’s not a fool as to think she was really that special to him. Clarke is prepared to suffer for eternity because nobody in this world would ever come close to Bellamy Blake - but him? He can do better, deserves somebody better. Deserves somebody that isn’t afraid to love him and give him their whole self.

Even though Clarke does a pretty good job at actively avoiding the thoughts, there’s still an ache in her chest - one that she carries with her every second of the day which reminds her that there's something terrible happening in her life.

How far does she have to run from this in order for the pain to subside? How long is she going to keep running for?

She finds herself wondering what Bellamy is doing, despite her efforts to not think about him. She wonders if they’re all participating in family night tonight. She was so used to being apart of that life and she doesn’t know what to do now that she’s removed herself from it.

Clarke folds her jeans and straightens out her t-shirts for the next minute, figuring it’s best to keep her hands busy. She isn’t ready when her fingers pull out the next item from the bag, a navy jacket that definitely isn’t hers.

Such a simple thing makes her heart stop, makes the memories of all the times he's worn it rush to the forefront of her mind. With shaking hands, she can only stare at it like it will somehow transform into Bellamy himself. The ache in her chest grows, as does the overwhelming urge to cry. She must have packed it by accident in her haste of grabbing clothes from the couch.

God, she is still so in love with him - running to her mother’s didn’t stop that, telling herself she didn’t want to fall in love didn’t stop it either. Against her better judgement, Clarke slips on the jacket and almost melts inside when she picks up the scent of him on it. That’s when the tears fall freely.

She knows what’s coming when a pain in her head starts to form.

 

_‘What was that?’ Bellamy asks quietly in the silence of the house._

_‘Yes, what was that?’ Clarke snaps. ‘That story? Now they think they’re gonna go outside and climb trees with all these new kids and see butterflies and trees and lakes!’_

_‘It’s a story’ Bellamy throws his hand out, frustration bursting from his body. Clarke hates being at odds with him like this but damn it, she’s so annoyed with him right now. What was he thinking?_

_‘It’s not a story. It’s a lie. They’ll never climb trees and they are never gonna make new friends. Why make them believe that?’_

_‘They have to believe in something’ Bellamy says evenly. ‘What is this for if they don’t have anything to believe in?’_

_‘So that they survive!’ Clarke’s voice raises, her heart racing because she’s panicking as well. Time is growing short in this house and those things outside are just waiting to claim whatever is left of the human race. She and Bellamy are normally on the one page, how could he give their kids false hope like this? Things are bad enough._

_‘Maybe life should be about more than just surviving, Clarke.’_

_This lands her like a tonne of bricks. She can only stare at him, at a loss for words._

_‘Surviving is not living, baby.’_

_‘They’re gonna die if they listen to you’ Clarke says, a little quieter now because when he calls her that, she can’t help but soften._

_‘Life is more than just what is. It’s what could be, what you could make it’ Bellamy speaks with all the sense left in the world. ‘Come on, you know this. You need to promise them dreams that may never come true. They deserve hope.’_

_‘Hope? Hope for climbing trees and swimming in lakes? The only thing I’m hoping for right now, Bellamy, is that we don’t run out of food!’_

_‘Well they don’t need to hope for that’ Bellamy snaps. ‘They’re children. So yes, they should be hoping for climbing trees and swimming in lakes because they don’t have to worry about the things we’re worried about.’_

_Clarke feels the defeat rise within her and silence rings through the house louder than their voices were._

_‘Don’t make them’ Bellamy finishes._

_‘They’ll have to face it when we have nothing left, when we have to move them out of the only place they’ve ever known’ Clarke rants, her own personal fears coming out in volumes through this argument. She’s worried for them all - they've been living with this apocalypse (and surviving it) for years now. She knows what works. ‘You trying to tell me that they don’t have to worry about that? Have you found some magic way to keep us alive in this house for the foreseeable future?’ She huffs out a breath, something akin to a laugh but it’s coming out as desperation. ‘You still have hope?’_

_‘We still breathing?’_

 

Clarke zips up Bellamy’s jacket to her chin, lifting the fabric so she can inhale his scent fully now. Sadly, after that episode, she just doesn’t care about keeping the thoughts of Bellamy away. She wants to think about him, wants to see him. What's worse is that she doesn't even want to fight these flashes anymore - they seem to be her only connection to him.

He’ll probably never want to see her again, though. She’s fucked up, let her fears run riot with her life - and she has to live with that. After that dream, she wants nothing more than to change what has happened between them. She wishes for a do-over, wishes she could go back and work something out. She might still be terrified of it not working but God, she'd face the fear at this point if she could just see him in real life.

‘Clarke, I’m home’ her mom calls from the living room, the front door banging closed behind her.

‘Be right out’ Clarke promises, exhaling a deep breath.

Maybe now is the right time to talk about this with her mother, maybe she can run some tests and figure out what the hell these episodes are. She is a neurologist after all, and a damn good one. She might even be able to shed some light on the Bellamy situation, soothe her fears or at least give her some hard logic and reassurance on why she should give this a shot.

She wants to, she really does. If there’s anyone for her, it’s him. She's not disputing that it would be hard for her, the fear is still crippling - she can’t do this again for it to end. Not with Bellamy. She’s been with too many people, seen too many relationships crash and burn. She’s been open and let people in, only to have it backfire in her face. Her past is an absolute train wreck of bad pairings and she’s so fucking scared to mess things up with Bellamy.

_You already have._

Fuck. The little voice inside her head screams at her, chastises her for her poor decisions. She’s hurt everyone by running, including herself. Maybe Bellamy is better off without her - she’s too broken, too delicate and fragile. Maybe she should just leave things as they are. Her perception on love doesn’t match his, how could they ever have made it work?

She’s still hurting, still unhealed from past pain and now she’s carrying it around with her and unleashing it on the world. Onto good people - all because she’s holding onto her opinion that love is a complete waste of time.

_Waste it on me._

Clarke snaps her eyes closed, the memory of Bellamy's mischievous eyes when he sent her that text rising rapidly in her mind.

No. She has to try. She has to.

Clarke takes a breath and shoves her hands into the pockets of Bellamy’s jacket, ready to face her mom and tell her everything - tell her why she’s really here. Her fingers brush off a piece of card and Clarke furrows her brow, pulling it out to investigate.

It’s a business card - _her mother’s_ business card.

Her hospital phone number is on it, her new surname and her department. _Why the hell does Bellamy have this in his jacket pocket?_ Clarke examines the card like it somehow has the answers on it, her heart starting to pick up in speed. She searches her brain for an explanation, a reason why Bellamy would have been at the hospital and gotten this from her mother.

It hits her then. On Bellamy’s balcony, too many weeks ago - both of them wrapped up in a hug with one another after Bellamy told her about his family life. He had snapped himself away from her, told her he was having these headaches and Clarke suggested that he go see a doctor.

She never thought any more about it though, he never once complained of headaches after that. _He had gone to a doctor after all?_

‘ _Mom_?’ Clarke’s voice comes out in a wave, panic bursting through her as she storms out to the living room.

Her mother is in the adjoined kitchen, putting away groceries. She still has her name tag on from the hospital. ‘Hi, honey.’

‘Mom’ Clarke pounds towards her like a woman on a mission. Fuck, is Bellamy sick? Why the hell did he see a neurologist and not just a general doctor?

Abby is looking at her, a little alarmed about the urgency in Clarke’s voice. She displays the business card out in front of her, drawing Abby’s eyes to it as she walks over to her.

‘Why is this in my friend’s jacket?’

Abby glances from the business card to the navy jacket Clarke has draped over herself, a mile too big on her. ‘Clarke, I can’t discuss patient information-’

‘Mom’ Clarke bursts out. Fear is hitting her in short waves and Clarke feels like she’s drowning. Her ribcage is growing smaller, her heart fluttering around like a bird trapped inside of it. ‘This was in Bellamy’s jacket and I need to know why.’

‘Bellamy?’ Her mother frowns and Clarke almost gets sick. It’s evident that she recognises the name, remembers him enough for this to be as serious as she thinks it is. ‘Bellamy Blake?’

‘Oh my God’ Clarke tries to take a breath but it comes out as a cry. ‘He’s sick isn’t he?’

‘Oh, Clarke’ Abby rounds the corner of the island, a carton of milk tipping over on her way as her elbow knocks it. ‘Okay. First of all, let's calm down.’

‘No, he’s sick - isn’t he? That’s why he went to see you?’

Clarke can barely catch her breath, clutching her mother’s forearms as she searches for signs in her mother’s eyes. What diagnosis did she deliver him? Why the hell didn’t he tell her?

‘Clarke’ her mother’s firm voice breaks through her cloud of panic. ‘Are you getting headaches too?’

Her heart stops dead in her chest, breath trapped along with it. When she speaks, it’s barely a whisper. ‘What?’

Abby sighs out through her nose, guiding her towards the couch. ‘Sit down.’

Clarke’s head is spinning, her world tilting and flipping over completely. She wouldn’t call what she’s been having ‘headaches’, even though a brief pain is happening before the flashes come. All the same, how does her mother know? And what does she mean by ‘too?’

‘I know what’s going on with you and I can help.’

Clarke is staring at her, unsure if her breathing has returned or not. _What the hell is going on?_

‘Do you believe in soulmates?’

A poor beginning. Clarke stands abruptly, anger burning hot inside her. She’s worried out of her mind about Bellamy and this is what her mother wants to talk about?

‘Are you kidding me?’ She stares at her incredulously before trying to storm off. Abby is quicker than her, grabbing her hand and pulling her back down.

‘Listen to me’ she instructs her and Clarke snaps her mouth closed, used to the tone of her voice from when she was a child. Abby is serious and demands the attention. ‘You’re getting visions, right? Almost like waking dreams of Bellamy?’

Clarke feels like a puppet, mouth opening and closing without anything coming out of it. She feels dizzy and nauseous, like someone is telling her that her father has risen from the dead. It feels that impossible for her mother to know about this - she hasn’t told a soul.

‘They’re memories, honey’ Abby tells her but Clarke can only stare, gaping at her like a fool. ‘You’ve lived previous lives with Bellamy.’

Clarke can feel herself breaking into a grin, like she’s waiting for the punchline of a joke that her mother is telling. Abby simply shakes her head, her stoic expression unchanging.

‘I’m serious. I’ll dig up the research for you later - I was working with a tribe in-’

‘Mom’ Clarke half laughs, standing up and away from the couch because fucking hell, has she been doing drugs?

‘Clarke’ Abby stays sitting, completely composed and proper - now this is the mother she remembered. ‘You’re in love with him.’

‘What the fuck?’ Clarke snaps, his jacket suddenly feeling too warm around her. ‘This is bullshit’ she shrugs whilst shaking her head - denial shrouding her because there’s no fucking way this is what’s happening.

‘Bellamy came to see me last Friday’ Abby lands that blow on her. Last Friday? Clarke had his jacket way before that. She doesn’t understand. Her mother must see the confusion in her face and so, she goes on. ‘The first time he came, we talked about soulmates and what was happening to him with the flashbacks.’

Clarke pales. ‘He’s having these too?’

‘When you start to fall in love with your soulmate, they start coming. Short and spaced out at first, then more intense as you fall more in love’ Abby tells her casually, as if they’re not talking about shit that resembles magic and witchcraft.

'You're serious?'

'Why would I lie?' Abby asks.

This is insane - if she wasn't having these _flashbacks_ , Clarke would never even consider believing it. But it's the only plausible thing that explains all of this. Fuck, this is actually what's happening? And Bellamy's having them too?

When Clarke thinks back on it, it was ages ago since he talked about the headaches to her on his balcony. Come to think of it, he told her he had a headache the very first time she sang in his bar - when it was just him and their friends, drinking late and sharing stories. He’s been having these flashbacks since then? _He's been falling in love with her since then?_

‘He never said anything’ Clarke mumbles, a little hurt that he wouldn’t tell her.

‘Honey’ Abby pats the seat next to her and Clarke collapses back down. ‘You want somebody to fall in love with you by themselves, not because fate says you have to. I’m sure he just didn’t want to pressure you.’

He didn't pressure her, Clarke fell in love with him by herself. She’s been in love with him longer than she cares to admit, longer than she wanted to believe - before she ever knew about fate and _soulmates_.

‘So what? We’re just going to work out now because fate says so?’ Clarke scoffs.

‘Fate plays a hand in it, yes. You’ve already lived multiple lives together, you’ve seen that for yourself. But there’s no guarantee that it will work, Clarke.’ Abby shifts so she’s facing her a little straighter, a confidence in her eyes that Clarke has never seen. It’s like she’s completely certain in what she’s saying, like she has some kind of proof. ‘It’s hard. Some days, it comes easier. Others, you need to work at it. This is the way with all relationships - whether fate is involved or not.’

‘How do you know so much about this?’ Clarke wonders. Surely, it can’t all be down to research. Abby tilts her head, as if she’s imploring Clarke to search her brain for the answer. It doesn’t take long to reach her. ‘You and Marcus.’

‘Yes’ her mother nods, smiling. ‘I had already done work with this - so I knew what was happening when it was happening. Marcus, he was as lost as you and Bellamy.’

Clarke, once again, is rendered speechless.

‘We got there though, and we work hard at our relationship every day. Not everyone gets a soulmate, Clarke. It’s a gift, to be guaranteed a chance with the same person - life after life.’

‘A chance?’

‘It’s up to you whether you take it or not’ Abby tells her. ‘As I said, there’s no guarantees it will work. You have the choice to walk away or work at it - it just depends how much you want it and how much you love him.’

Clarke loves Bellamy - so fucking much. And even after learning this, it doesn’t erase the fear of it not working down the line. Maybe they’ll give up, maybe they’ll let their love die. But it has solidified her earlier thoughts- Clarke wants to try. Not because he’s her soulmate but because he’s _Bellamy_.

Somewhere along the way, Clarke has started crying and she only notices when Abby reaches out to swipe a tear away. She leans into her mother's touch, absorbing everything she’s learned in the last few minutes. They fall into silence and her mother let's her think about it, let's the information sink in.

Fuck, this is really happening.

‘In the next life, will I remember him?’ Clarke croaks out after a while.

‘It depends’ Abby sighs out. ‘I’ve read that in some lives, you’ll be together and never know about the other lives you’ve lived. The main thing is, you’ll always find each other - two magnets, drawn together through space and time.’

Clarke sniffles, taking comfort in that. Her biggest fear was losing Bellamy, more than putting herself in a situation where she could be hurt again - giving her all to someone just to have them crush it with their bare hands. At least fate ensures that she’ll have him in the next life, no matter what. Maybe that’s a grace within itself.

How ironic that she’s already lost him in this one.

‘Wait, you said he came to see you on Friday?’ Clarke remembers.

Abby nods, a sympathetic look on her face. ‘He thinks you don’t want him.’

‘ _I love him_ ’ Clarke’s tone is weighted by emotion, a little defence in there too because he was right. She didn't want this at first, was scared to want it. And it kills her to admit it.

‘He knows that’ her mother holds her hand. ‘He knows you’re having the memories. It’s your choice that he’s questioning.’

Clarke’s eyes fall shut, her heart cracking even further. He knew she was getting flashbacks and he knew she was running from everything. Fuck, no wonder he thinks that she doesn’t want him - how could he think anything else with the way she’s behaved?

It really hits her that Bellamy has been seeing their past lives too, knows how in love they were in them and knows how happy they could have been in this life if Clarke would just let it happen. He probably loves her as much as she loves him and in that moment, even when she thought her heart couldn't break anymore, it does.

'Shit' Clarke whispers, burying her head into her hands. 'I fucked up so badly with him, mom. I want to try - I really do, but I don't know how to take back everything that I said.'

‘He seems like a good man, Clarke' her mother says, her hand resting on Clarke's shoulder as she rubs it sympathetitcally. 'And he loves you. You'll find a way to work it out.'

'How do I even begin to make things right with him?'

Abby looks pensive before finding a response a few beats later. 'Sometimes, you need more than just a simple conversation.'

Clarke shakes her head, her mind frazzled. Fuck, what is she gonna do? Does she even deserve his forgiveness?

'I'm so afraid, mom' Clarke worries her bottom lip, now scared for a totally new reason. Maybe Bellamy will never accept her apology. Maybe they'll never go back to what they were - he might never trust her again. 'It shouldn't be this hard, should it?'

'No-one writes songs about the ones that come easy' Abby gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Clarke flicks her eyes up to her mother's at that, an idea hitting her. She knows what strikes Bellamy deeper than anything, something that she has the ability to do that grabs his attention every single time.

Maybe that's a good place to start.

 

-

 

Clarke spent the night awake, thinking about Bellamy and reading research on soulmates and reincarnation. Definitely not what she saw herself doing a week ago.

There's no doubt in her mind that she wants to give things a go with Bellamy, if he’ll even have her.

She’s still scared to death - but everything is starting to make sense now. The information she learned didn’t erase the fear and it certainly didn’t force her into the decision to try and fix things. She had decided to try before she ever knew about soulmates. There’s still no guarantees with their gift, just the same tools she had yesterday - free will and a choice.

The difference now is Clarke wants to choose him anyway - despite the fear. She wants to make it work, put her heart into his hands and trust him not to break it. Not like she’s broke his, or her own for that matter.

Irony at its finest.

She had tried calling him but his phone went straight to voicemail. Shit.

She needs to show him how much she wants to fix things and singing is something that Bellamy loves to see her do. The way he looks at her when she sings, it's like she made the Earth and everything in it. Maybe it will show him how sorry she is, give her an opening to have a conversation with him and apologise for the hurtful things she said. Some kind of a grand gesture.

She had spent all morning practicing the song she wants to sing to him, her voice shaking at every lyric because her emotions are sky high. She wants him - loves him more than anything and if this doesn't work, she's not sure what she'll do.

In order to set it up, Clarke ended up calling Murphy. She asked him to meet her before he went into work for stock take but he informed her that he was actually opening the bar.

This confused her - Bellamy usually opens.

Murphy offered to meet her in twenty minutes, not giving Clarke much time but she didn’t refuse the offer. So now, she finds herself standing at the docks, seagulls screeching around her as the waves lap against the pebbled beach under the wooden deck.

She should use the opportunity to enjoy nature, clear her head by looking out to the water but she can't think about anything only Bellamy. Guilt and fear spin within her simultaneously but this time, the concoction has an extra ingredient: hope. Hope that this will work, that they can fix things, that they can try be happy together - despite the possibility that everything could go wrong, despite the risk of them both getting hurt again.

_You still have hope?_

_We still breathing?_

Clarke is kicking at the stones when Murphy approaches, hands tucked into his pockets and his mouth hidden underneath his zipped up collar.

‘We need to make this quick, I’m opening in half an hour.’

‘Hello to you too’ Clarke pulls her beanie hat down over her ears a little further. The breeze from the water is chilling, numbing her lips.

‘No high horses here’ Murphy cocks his head at her. ‘You’ve been ignoring my calls.’

‘I’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls’ Clarke shoots back, scoffing a little because it's not like Murphy to get his nose so bent out of shape over something as trivial as unanswered phone calls.

‘This is serious’ Murphy tells her. ‘I needed you, where the hell have you been?’

‘I’ve been busy’ Clarke shrugs. This isn’t what she wanted Murphy to come here for - she needs his help if she’s going to try and make this up to Bellamy. What the hell is his problem?

Murphy shakes his head at her, disappointment swirling in his eyes. ‘What were you thinking?’

‘What do you mean?’ Clarke pinches her eyes at him.

‘I mean, why would you start sleeping with Bellamy when you told me yourself that you weren’t looking for anything with anyone?’

This is so unlike Murphy - normally, he keeps out of everyone's business and as long as nobody is bothering him, he doesn’t give a crap.

‘Spare me the lecture, Murphy. I know I messed up’ she looks down at her boots, kicking another stone. 'You think it's easy to-'

‘He’s drinking, Clarke.’

The world spins on its axis, shifting everything in its wake. Clarke looks up at Murphy, checking if he’s serious. The words echo through her, leaving her dizzy.

‘What?’ She whispers.

No, it can’t be true. Murphy doesn’t reply, turning his head out to the water like the subject is as painful for him as it is for her. The blow sinks in and Clarke’s breathing grows uneven. Not that she thought any of this has been easy on Bellamy but fuck, she didn't think it would do this to him. He's gone through so much, spent so long away from his vice that she thought he had a good handle on it.

It strikes Clarke then that the last time he came close to drinking, it was only a few days after he had one of his 'headaches' on the balcony. He probably had a flashback of their past lives - maybe he had gone to see her mother for the first time around then, found out about soulmates and everything else. Had he been as confused as she was? Is that what almost drove him back to alcohol that time?

Fuck. Clarke snaps her eyes shut, wishing to God that she had known everything back then. He must have felt so alone.

She finds her voice after a minute, her heart heavy as she dreads the answer to her question. ‘How long?’ 

‘Haven’t seen him sober in over a week’ Murphy replies, still not looking at her. His eyes are squinting as the wind blows in his face. This can’t be happening. Then, Clarke starts calculating and the information registers with her quicker than anything.

‘Where?’ Her tone drops an octave, expectations for the next sentence already in her chest.

‘Where do you think?’ Murphy levels her.

‘No’ she refuses to believe it. ‘He wouldn’t.’

Northern Lights is everything to him, it’s for his mother - a promise to her that he’d do better. Bellamy told her himself that he’d never drink there.

‘Well he is’ Murphy kicks the stones now too. 'You haven't seen him, Clarke. Losing you...it changed him.'

Silence lies between the two of them for a few beats until determination fills Clarke’s every atom.

‘Dry him out’ she instructs Murphy like she’s calling the shots.

‘And get fired? I don’t think so.’

‘I don’t care how you have to do it, Murphy. But get it done.’

Murphy stares at her incredulously, a spark of fire in his eyes. ‘Are you listening to me? He’ll fire me.’

‘He won’t' Clarke tilts her chin up. She can't stand to think of Bellamy in that state, can't bare to think that she's the one that put him there. She needs to make things right.

‘He’s already threatened it.’

‘He _won’t_.’

Murphy flaps his arms against his side, frustration building behind his words. ‘How am I supposed to do that? He owns and lives in a bar full of alcohol.’

‘I don’t care’ Clarke tells him, shaking her head in the most petty way. ‘Just get it done before tomorrow night.’

‘And what are you going to do?’

Clarke has never been so sure of something in her entire life - has never been driven by so much purpose before. It makes her answer incredibly simple.

‘Fight like hell.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and thank you all again for the positivity and wonderful feedback. Keep the comments coming, I love hearing your thoughts. As of now, over _400_ of you have subscribed to this fic. I'm overwhelmed and utterly speechless. THANK YOU ALL.
> 
> Brownie points to you if you spotted the Veronica Mars reference. Extra brownie points if you noticed the flashbacks were actually scenes from my other multi-chapter Bellarke fics ;) The FBI one was a scene from [Lose You Too](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15648807/chapters/36345681) and the apocalypse one was a scene from [Devil Side](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17487719/chapters/41187566). I thought it would be a fun feature to include.
> 
> The [Bellarke Fanwork Awards](https://bfwa.tumblr.com) are still ongoing and I have made it through to Round 1 winners. I think voting for Round 2 is over but keep your eye on the page if you feel like voting for this fic (and some of my others) to continue to the finals. I appreciate every single one of you who have been voting, my heart is so full.
> 
> [Waste It On Me](https://vimeo.com/297512241) from [TeamHodgins](https://vimeo.com/teamhodgins) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](http://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/182961833924/waste-it-on-me-bellarke-soulmatereincarnation) if you want to share it and that would just make my day :)


	20. Your Love Remains True

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Home' by Daughtry. It's also the song within the chapter.
> 
> Guys, oh my god. Major apologies for such a long delay with this update - coming to the end of multi chapter fics always gets me stuck and I don't know why. I just felt like I couldn't get this the way I wanted it for so long. Thank you all for your endless patience and I hope it was worth the wait.
> 
> To those who left such kind and supportive comments about me struggling with the final chapters, both here and on Tumblr, I just want to say a special thank you to you. You are wonderful souls 💛

Bellamy had forgotten how easy it was to get lost in the haze of alcohol.

He wakes up in his bed with his tongue feeling heavy and rough in his mouth, not having any idea what day it is or how long he’s been doing this for. There’s a moment of slight peace when he first opens his eyes, despite his pounding hangover already starting to set in. He forgets what’s wrong, forgets why there’s a pain in his chest.

It doesn’t last long.

Clarke comes to the forefront of his mind and he groans, wishing to every deity that he’s ever read about for this curse to be removed from him. He’s destined to love her for the rest of time and while before, he considered it a blessing, he now thinks that he’s being punished.

It’s torture - painful to know that they could have had it all. They had it before, spent so many lifetimes together where they were blissfully happy. He’s not delusional enough to think it was rosy gardens all the time though. Just because they’re soulmates, it doesn’t mean their relationships didn’t require work. Still, he wanted it - no matter how hard it was.

Since Clarke left, Bellamy hasn’t had that many memories - mainly because he’s been too drunk to even process anything. The ones he has had though, he’s witnessed a very different relationship between the two of them. Ones where they hadn’t yet gotten together and their road to get there was turbulent, to say the least. Ones where they’re in a fight in their marriage, ones where he’s made Clarke cry, ones where she’s hurt him.

It’s not a coincidence that when the two of them are out of sync in this life, their flashbacks reflect other difficult times that they’ve went through in their history. Bellamy gets it, it just doesn’t make it suck any less.

The odds are that in this lifetime, they’re not going to work out. Clarke left, refusing to accept him or trust him with her heart. That’s her choice - something that apparently, not even fate can control. He feels like _his_ only choice now is to drink - what else is left to do? The alcohol is easier to swallow than the fact that Clarke isn’t coming back.

When Bellamy swings his legs out of bed, he stumbles a little - signifying that he’s still a little drunk from the night before. It’s no surprise, he’s woken up every day like this - ever since he started his binge, ever since she left. He’s still in his jeans and blue t-shirt from yesterday and he could definitely use a shower considering he smells of stale drink and cigarette smoke, but fuck that.

The first thing on his mind is to get a drink. He already feels on edge being this close to sober, feels too close to experiencing that severe burst of pain again. He’s become accustomed to it being a little numbed down and he’s decided that he can just about take that much. So, a straight whiskey will top him up quite nicely.

It seems that life has other plans for him.

When he walks out into his living room, Miller and Murphy are sitting on his couch with two gaming consoles in their hands. Neither of them look up when Bellamy comes out, too focused on their game. The tapping of their fingers accelerates, indicating that they’ve come to a tense point that needs a lot of concentration. The sound of guns can be heard on the television, zapping in time with their finger taps.

‘What are you doing?’ Bellamy huffs, squinting at the clock on his wall. Just past 10am.

‘Way-hey! Look who arose from the dead’ Miller snarks, eyes still on the screen in front of him. Bellamy doesn’t even own a gaming console - meaning one of these idiots brought it with them.

‘Just let yourselves in, why don’t you?’ Bellamy bites out, his footing a little unsteady as he makes towards the door. He doesn’t give a shit that they’re here, it's not disturbing his daily routine.

‘Where you going, sunshine?’ Murphy asks, a sarcastic undertone in his voice. Neither of them have taken their eyes off their game.

‘Downstairs’ Bellamy mutters, like it should be obvious. That’s where the alcohol is and its where he’s been spending his time every day for the past God knows how long.

When he reaches the door, however, it doesn’t take him long to realise that it’s locked. Bellamy gives it a few hard tugs, confirming that it’s definitely sealed shut with no sign of a key anywhere. He sighs, tired and growing irritated.

‘Where are the keys?’

‘What keys?’ Miller asks, shooting a zombie as his character rounds the corner. ‘You know anything about keys, Murphy?’

‘Nope’ Murphy replies, his expression hidden by the back of his head.

Bellamy rounds the couch to stand in front of them, frustration swelling through his body. He doesn’t need this shit right now. His two so-called ‘friends’ merely shift their heads in order to peer out around him at their game, completely unfazed. What the hell are they playing at?

‘This is my apartment’ Bellamy snaps.

‘Sure is.’

Miller hasn’t been this condescending with him since they were serving. That day in question, they ended up taking a few swings at each other due to exhaustion and hunger over there. Is he searching for the same thing right now?

‘Open the door.’

They both hiss through their teeth, a look of false sorrow on their faces. ‘No can do’ Murphy tags on.

‘Why the fuck not?’ Bellamy is really pissed now.

‘Strict orders’ Miller shrugs, gesturing to Bellamy to move out of the way.

‘From who?’

‘The boss’ Murphy sighs like he’s bored. ‘She said to dry you out.’

Bellamy’s heart stops abruptly in his chest. _She?_

Miller hums in agreement, taking a drink from his soda on the floor by his feet. ‘Hard to say no to her. Besides, it’s not a bad idea considering you’re drinking into your profit at this stage.’

Bellamy leans back in a swift motion, unplugging the television from the wall and their game blacks out. There’s a mutual collection of protests from the both of them but in two seconds flat, Bellamy has dragged Miller (because he's the first one to his hand) up from the couch with his two fists curled into his hoodie. The adrenaline pounds through him as he shoves his best friend against the wall.

‘Start talking’ Bellamy says through gritted teeth. His emotions are cloaking his every move and his heart hasn’t settled properly, still trying to catch up with what they’ve said. Does Clarke know he’s drinking?

‘Back off, man’ Miller shoves him away easily. Bellamy is sloppy after days of being out of his mind, motions out of sync in his body.

Murphy is standing now too, eyes sharp on Bellamy. The silence between the three of them is deafening after his outburst - one that certainly wouldn’t have happened if Bellamy wasn't half drunk. Miller fixes his hoodie before plugging back in the television and taking his seat back on the couch.

‘Murphy was talking to Clarke’ Miller says as he turns back on the game, his tone more serious now. ‘You’re not drinking anymore, man. Enough is enough.’

A range of feelings flutter through Bellamy in that moment. Part of him aches to know what she had to say, if she’s alright, if she’s ever going to come back. Part of him bubbles with anger, a palpable bitterness inside of him. In the end, that’s the one that wins out.

‘She has no say in anything I do’ Bellamy’s voice is shaking and he’s not sure if it’s from how angry he feels or if it’s something else. He feels like he could cry and he doesn’t know where that is coming from. Both Murphy and Miller’s eyes lock on his, clearly hearing the hurt in his tone. ‘She left. She has no right.’

‘She cares about you’ Murphy tells him.

‘Yeah?’ Bellamy laughs. ‘Then where the hell is she?’

Both of his friends exchange short glances at one another, silent in their response. He hadn’t given much of an explanation on his and Clarke’s relationship - but his friends seemed to catch on pretty quickly anyway. They’ve never seen Bellamy like this over any girl before and to be fair, he hasn't put himself in this position in a long time. He always ends up hurt - this time has proven no different.

‘That’s what I thought.’ Bellamy’s heart is tripping, driving his desire to drink and reach numbness to the absolute brink. ‘Give me the keys.’

Miller stares at him for a long moment before making his decision, adamant about his answer. He won’t be swayed, too stubborn to go back now. ‘ _No_.’

Bellamy shakes his head at the two of them. ‘You and I end here’ he directs at Miller, his childhood best friend. ‘And you - you’re fired’ he tells Murphy before swinging around and slamming his bedroom door behind him like a petulant teenager.

It’s the come down - Bellamy knows it is, but he can’t help but be so fucking angry at the two of them. They’re supposed to be on his side here, not Clarke’s. What the hell are they doing, fraternising with the girl who broke his heart?

Some friends they are.

 

-

 

When Bellamy wakes up, he doesn’t even realise he’d fallen asleep. He’s face down on his bed, a pounding headache making its presence known immediately.

His phone has long since abandoned him, lost somewhere in the building - but he checks his old watch on his nightstand to confirm that it’s past five. Not only that, but it's the most sober Bellamy has been since Clarke left.

His heart lurches. _Fuck_. His conversation with his friends earlier drifts back to him and he can’t help the way his stomach turns. _Murphy was talking to Clarke._ The probability that she knows of the state he was in is quite strong and Bellamy hates that she knows he slipped back into alcohol. Hates knowing that he did that himself.

Bellamy had been so strong for so long, faced it every single day without ever having a sip. It hadn’t been easy, especially not after he’d had a hard day. But he resisted - for his mom. And now what has he done? Gotten drunk every day in the bar he named after his mother, in the bar that he promised himself he would never drink in.

He was too much of a coward to face the fall out of him and Clarke without a crutch and it makes him feel weak now - now that he's sober enough to form a decent thought.

He remembers attacking his friends this morning and it makes him feel even worse. They were just trying to help. If it wasn’t for his friends, his business and his health would both be disastrous about now.

As for Clarke telling Murphy to stop him drinking, he can’t even begin to understand that right now. She obviously still cares about him but it still doesn’t change her desires. _She still doesn’t want him._

All Bellamy can do now is move on. That’s his only option. As he sits on the edge of his bed, accepting that simple fact, he feels like he could burst open from the complex and clustered emotions inside of him. Fuck, he wants to hold on - Clarke isn’t someone you let go of that easily. But he isn’t going to force her to want this, no matter what fate or their previous lives tell them.

He doesn’t want their relationship to be strained and forced, with Clarke nervous and afraid every minute of their lives and not trusting him at all. He doesn’t want her to resent him eventually, to feel like he held her back from other things in life. This is her choice and he has to take that and live with it. Respect it.

Bellamy honestly feels like someone has died. The influx of emotions spinning in his chest are the exact reason he started drinking in the first place, but he can’t keep that habit up. He’ll lose everything and his mother would be ashamed of him, Murphy was right.

He’s glad for this moment of clarity - no matter how painful it is. He needs it.

Bellamy makes the decision to shower and get something to eat, to start the process of picking himself back up from rock bottom like he’s done before.

He wishes it wasn’t something he had gotten good at, but here he is.

 

-

 

When Bellamy comes into his bar, Murphy is pouring a drink for a customer and Miller is sitting in front of him on the other side. Both pairs of eyes lock on him when he comes out the door behind the bar, assessing and judging him in the least subtle way imaginable.

They’re sizing him up, trying to figure out his mood - wondering if he’s still mad at them or if he’s just here for a drink.

‘I’m sorry’ Bellamy mumbles, frozen to the floor. He can visibly see Murphy and Miller’s shoulders slump with relief.

Miller nods, a slight smile on his face like he’s satisfied. Murphy smiles too.

‘Am I still fired?’

‘Shut up’ Bellamy lets a small smirk out but inside, he feels guilty.

He shouldn’t have spoken to his friends like that. Besides, like he realised up in his apartment, he’d have been lost without them when everything went to shit. They've picked up his slack - all of them, some who have never even worked behind a bar before.

He glances out to the tables near the stage, meeting the eyes of Raven, Emori, Maya, Jasper and Jackson. Every single one of them are staring at him, assessing his state.

They've all witnessed the worst side of him, the pit of darkness that he couldn’t manage to pull himself out of. All they knew was that him and Clarke had really messed up with one another but none of them know about their soulmates predicament. Bellamy is pretty sure they wouldn’t understand. He gives them a small wave and he sees them all relax as much as Miller and Murphy did, greeting him with sympathetic smiles.

Harper nods at him from the other end of the bar, the most genuine grin bursting on her features - just as relieved as the rest of them. Relieved that Bellamy is finally sober, that she doesn’t have to look at the shell of a man he had become - even though he still feels like it on the inside.

The bar is bustling, almost as busy as it was when Monty and Clarke were performing. The crowd have been asking for Clarke every Wednesday but Monty took the stage solo, promising that she would be back soon.

None of them knew if that would be true or not.

Still, Bellamy is surprised that the crowd hasn’t dwindled. Tonight is as busy as every other Wednesday, bodies cramped together at the bar so they can get their drinks before the show starts. Monty is already on stage, setting up his equipment.

‘It’s busy’ Bellamy notes the obvious, about to dive straight into serving a customer.

‘I don’t think so’ Murphy cuts him off, signalling that he will take the order and pushes Bellamy out to the other side of the bar. ‘You need the night off.’

‘I’ve had too many nights off’ Bellamy protests.

‘And we’ve handled just fine without you’ Murphy argues. ‘Come on. Don’t run before you walk, ease yourself back.’

Bellamy eyes him warily but finds himself agreeing because he’s not in the mood if he’s completely honest. The healing process will take time. It still hurts to think about Clarke- it sends a rippling ache throughout his whole body when he remembers their last conversation. _Will it ever stop?_

The desire to drink is still there, still just as strong but he simply purses his lips, forcing himself to be stronger. He can’t fall down that hole again - no matter how much he wants to. It’s the easy way out and he doesn’t want to be like that.

It’s bad enough that Clarke probably knows he’s been drinking but he doesn’t want to let his mother down again. Not to mention that if Octavia walked through those doors and seen him with a drink in his hand, he’s sure this second chance they’re trying out would be shot to hell.

Bellamy slots himself beside Miller who is waiting for a round for the table, silence sitting in between them. He’s dying to ask them what Clarke had said, if she is okay - but he can’t bring the words to his lips.

The noise of the bar whirrs around him, something that once felt like home to him becoming so foreign now. He knows he has to move on but he still needs to figure out how - how to process this, how to move on knowing Clarke doesn’t want him. It’s something Bellamy will have to give up to time, allow the ticking clock to pull him through this lifetime without her. The prospect feels daunting, like looking into an abyss.

He hasn’t gotten a memory in a while and he’s not looking forward to them returning - it hurts to even think about Clarke, let alone see her in a past life where they’re actually happy or even just in the same room as one another - fighting or not.

Murphy finishes with a few customers and then gets to work on Miller’s order, his eyes darting to Bellamy every few beats.

‘I’m fine’ Bellamy groans. ‘Stop worrying.’

‘You’ve literally been on a two week binge, you’re not fine’ Murphy cocks his head at him.

That’s fair. Besides, he looks like absolute crap. Despite his shower, Bellamy knows that he has dark bags under his eyes that look as black as his marble bar top. His skin looks lifeless from lack of nutrition and he didn’t even bother to tame his curls. They’re a hot mess on his head right now but it’s more effort than he’s made in two weeks.

‘Okay’ Bellamy gives him that. ‘Maybe I’m not 100%, but I’m not drinking anymore.’

‘That a promise?’ Miller says without looking at him. He was there when alcohol claimed him after his mom died. Bellamy can’t imagine it was an easy thing to watch the first time, let alone the second.

‘Yeah’ Bellamy nods. ‘That’s a promise.’

‘How are you feeling?’ Murphy puts the first drink of Miller’s order on a serving tray.

Bellamy blows out a breath. ‘Like I’ve been run over three times with a truck.’

His hangover is brutal. He had forgotten how bad withdrawal is from a binge. It would be bad for even the average person, one that doesn’t have a dependency on alcohol.

Bellamy is sweating, for one - and it’s not something that’s due to the amount of people in his bar right now. He exists in a constant state of anxiety, the feeling blanketing his chest in the most awful way. On top of that, there’s constant waves of nausea rolling in his stomach and his hands are trembling.

Nothing he hasn’t experienced before, nothing compared to the pain in his chest over Clarke, but it isn’t pleasant all the same. It’s his penance though, and he accepts it willingly.

Monty’s guitar strums to life, the nice melody filling the space of Northern Lights as the crowd falls silent. Bellamy doesn’t bother to look around. He’s too focused on watching the whiskey on Miller’s tray. It’s tempting - he’s not going to lie. It would be so easy to forget all of this again, to make the horrible feeling in his body turn to numbness.

It would be a relief to not think about Clarke every moment of the day, to not picture her face as he walked away from her. To not know for certain that she doesn’t want him like that, that she’s been having memories of their past lives and still doesn’t want him - despite the fact that she’s in love with him.

The easy way out is long gone though and Bellamy snaps his eyes shut and hunches his shoulders as he leans on the bar, recalling every reason why he won’t turn to alcohol again.

‘ _I’m staring out into the night_ ’ a girl’s voice erupts through the bar, falling like honey onto Bellamy’s ears. His eyes slowly open, recognition washing over him as the goosebumps take flight over his body. His stomach drops, the air leaving his lungs completely as his mind tries to catch up with what’s happening.

He makes himself turn around, no matter how slow he’s going because it’s inevitable. He knows what’s going on, knows that voice too well.

The world tilts as he locks eyes with Clarke, standing with a microphone in her hand as she sings on his stage. Bellamy's gut clenches like he’s been punched. _She’s here._

‘ _Trying to hide the pain_ ’ she sings, her eyes unmoving from his because of course, she has already spotted him. Bellamy can hardly process this, can’t believe what he’s staring at.

Her blonde hair is curled loosely around her shoulders, the sight of her squeezing his heart inside his chest. She’s wearing a simple black sweater and blue jeans, radiant as ever as the spotlight hits her.

Bellamy spares a glance over his shoulder at Murphy, who raises his eyebrows at him like he was expecting this. Miller gives him a wink as he takes his tray and scurries to the table where their friends are sitting, all of their eyes on Clarke and Monty on stage. Monty is focused on his guitar as he sits on his stool, looking like he has no intention of joining Clarke in singing this song.

‘ _I’m going to the place where love and feeling good don’t ever cost a thing_.’

Bellamy’s heart lurches. _Fuck_. Her choice of song wasn’t an accident, he knows that much right now.

_‘And the pain you feel is a different kind of pain.’_

His breathing is coming hard and fast, eyes wide as he watches her and takes in the lyrics.

‘ _I’m going home_ ’ Clarke belts out, her beautiful voice waving in and out of perfect notes. ‘ _Back to the place where I belong. Where your love has always been enough for me_.’

Bellamy swallows thickly. Is he really hearing this? Is he dreaming?

All that exists is Clarke in this moment. She seems to have an ability to block any other sound out, causing Bellamy to become deaf to the various dins around his bar. The clinking of glasses, the shuffle of bodies, coughs and whispers of his customers. It’s all white noise, and everything ceases to exist when he’s in her presence - whether she’s singing or not.

‘ _I’m not running from. No, I think you got me all wrong. I don’t regret this life I chose for me_.’

Bellamy straightens. The lyrics, the way Clarke is looking at him - _she knows_. She knows about everything.

_‘But these places and these faces are getting old. So I’m going home.’_

_Home_. God, she’s that for him as well. His focus is pinned on her, unmoving while she moves her lips - pouring out everything she wants to tell him, it seems. If there’s other people here, Bellamy doesn’t even see them anymore.

‘ _The miles are getting longer it seems, the closer I get to you. I’ve not always been the best girl or friend for you - but your love remains true_.’

He wills himself to hold it together, no matter how much his legs feel like jelly. It’s a battle within his mind. One part of him is dying to rush up to her in the middle of singing and hold her tightly to him, let the relief pour over him. The other half holds him firmly to the ground beneath him, frozen in time and powerless to do anything but watch.

‘ _And I don’t know why_ ’ a huff of disbelief falls through Clarke’s tone in this moment. ‘ _You always seem to give me another try._ ’

By the time she sinks into the chorus again, Bellamy’s stomach is doing somersaults. His breath is held in his nose, trying to untangle everything in his mind. They need to talk. He needs to know if Clarke has just come back because she feels safe now. He wants her to want him even if things aren’t set in stone, trust him enough because he’s _him_ \- not because fate says she should.

 _‘Be careful what you wish for’_ Clarke closes her eyes, losing herself in the passion of the music - something Bellamy could watch her do for hours. _‘Cause you just might get it all. You just might get it all, and then some you don’t want. Be careful what you wish for, cause you just might get it all’_ she belts out, sending shivers marching down Bellamy’s spine.

All of a sudden, everything becomes a massive sensory overload - it’s all happening so fast. All he knows is Clarke is right there in front of him, basically telling him that she wants to fix things. Everything he has been dying to hear.

Her eyes have barely left his for the entire thing and as she finishes out the song, he can’t pull himself away.

A surprising wave of anger washes over Bellamy in that moment, the feeling filling him up until he cocks his chin up and sets his jaw. He doesn’t want her choosing him because she feels like she has to, because she feels like she has some sort of assurance now.

The lyrics are making the tears prick his eyes but they’re hot, like the surge of anger inside of him right now. Everything she said to him, the way she hurt him - it’s not just going to be fixed because of this. They have things to figure out.

When the song ends, he can visibly see Clarke take a breath - gulping the air into her lungs as she watches Bellamy. He turns before Monty’s guitar can even finish it’s chord, rounding the bar and through his door that leads into his hallway. He can hear the sound of applause, a few whoops and cheers from the audience as he climbs the stairs before finally shutting out the noise with the slam of his apartment door.

_Fuck._

He takes a couple of deep breaths in through his nose, closes his eyes to focus his mind and tries to remain calm. There’s so much he wants to know, so much he wants to say - he wasn’t ready for this, isn’t ready for what’s coming.

Is it so bad for him to want Clarke to love him and trust him without fate telling her to? Does that make him a terrible person?

He certainly feels like one. An hour ago, he would have been content enough with Clarke just walking back through the door. He thought that if he could just see her again, the pain wouldn’t be this bad. That if she ever did come back, it would be easy to fix things - but now that it’s actually happening, it feels far more complicated than that.

Maybe he should be happy that she’s finally back, that his soulmate will be with him in this life if he just lets it happen.

As Bellamy opens his eyes to the darkness of his apartment, he realises that he’s not going to be able to do that. He’s fought for everything in his entire life, struggled through things that people can’t even imagine.

This time, he needs someone fight for him. Clarke needs to prove that she’s here for good - that she trusts him enough on her own terms, not just on destiny’s reasons.

The thoughts of her leaving for a second time is almost enough to send Bellamy back down the dark hole he was hiding in these past couple of weeks. And to be perfectly honest, the thoughts of Clarke walking away again makes Bellamy unsure if he ever experienced rock bottom at all.

 

-

 

A gentle knock at the door makes Bellamy’s head pop up. He’s sitting on his couch, fingers holding his mouth in place when his apartment door creaks open. He doesn’t dare look around, follows the light with his eyes as it brightens his place from the hallway.

‘Bellamy.’

Clarke’s voice almost breaks him this close. The power that she put behind her singing is gone, leaving her tone broken and hoarse - like she’s trying not to cry. He barely turns his head, just enough so that he can see her out of the corner of his eye - enough for her to know that he's listening.

‘Can we talk?’

Bellamy doesn’t answer her but she comes in anyway, easing the door shut behind her. The click feels too loud in the silence that resides between them. It makes his ears ring.

She flicks on the overhead light and Bellamy squints at the harshness of the glow. Everything about this moment is assaulting his over-sensitive senses, making his hangover feel ten times worse.

He hears her sigh behind him, a shaky breath that sounded like it required a lot of effort. He knows what she's feeling - they're in each other's immediate presence again and the tension buzzes between them, the electric energy that they seem to create vibrating the air. Bellamy blinks for a moment too long before standing, turning around to face her like he’s ripping off a bandaid.

_Shit._

In this proximity, she’s even more radiant. The blue of her eyes might as well be glowing like a luminescent forest, captivating him from the second he sets his sight on her. His stomach flips and tingles buzz through his entire body. How can he be so frustrated, angry, and yet so damn in love with her at the same time?

Her very existence frees him, breaks out any chains he holds himself down with. For a moment, he can believe that he doesn’t have to be guilty of anything. Doesn’t have to feel bad for drinking, doesn’t have to feel like a failure for not being enough for her on his own. Clarke makes him feel whole, complete, at peace. If that isn’t love, Bellamy will never know what it is.

He just wishes it was enough right now.

She's not blinking, examining him with her eyes like he's just been in a car accident. He probably looks like he has. His appearance is probably as rough as he feels and it's not a side of him that he ever wanted Clarke to see. When he speaks, it seems to snap her out of her own concerned thoughts about him.

‘So, you figured it out’ he shrugs, his voice shot.

Clarke’s eyes fall shut for a moment, absorbing the coldness of his tone. ‘My mom told me.’

Bellamy scoffs, really wishing this conversation wasn’t what lay before them. He doesn’t want to hear that he’s her safety net now and that’s the reason why she came back.

‘So now what?’ Bellamy steps forward a little, hands hung in his pockets. ‘You come back here, sing me a song and now we’re going to be happy again?’

 _Again_. It’s a bitter reminder that they once were happy. Before Clarke got scared, before the weight of what they would become crushed them.

Clarke's eyes narrow and she straightens her shoulders like a wave of defence just washed over her.

‘That’s not fair.’

‘No, what’s not fair is that you now have some kind of solid guarantee that we’re ‘meant to be’ and you don’t have to be afraid anymore. That’s why you’re here. Not because you trust me by yourself but because fate told you to.’

He might as well speak his mind. He literally has nothing left to lose and everything to gain. He can't be with her without knowing though, can't go through life with her while doubting her reasons for being with him.

Clarke's jaw hardens, absorbing the blow. It’s a few seconds before she finds words to respond, but when they come out, Bellamy knows he’s going to regret what he said. Her tone is certain, confident and deadly.

‘I’m here because I love you’ she levels him. ‘All due respect, Bellamy, but don’t stand there presuming my motives.’

It’s the first time either of them have admitted their feelings out loud and the sudden urge to reciprocate it is alive in Bellamy’s chest. He feels frozen after hearing it, wants to say it back like a reflex. Logically, he knows she must love him - otherwise, she wouldn’t be getting her memories of their past lives. But actually hearing it is a whole different ball game. He's sure his heart has exploded into a million pieces.

‘Bellamy’ she breathes out, shaking her head. ‘I’m so sorry, for _everything_. For running, for the things I said’ she drops her gaze, looking truly ashamed. 'I know how you must have felt when...'

'All due respect, Princess, but don't stand there and think you have any idea how I felt' he cuts her off, his nickname for her twisting like something sour on his tongue.

Clarke's chest deflates at the echo of her own sentence back to her. Bellamy knows he shouldn't be this harsh but fuck, he can't help it. Everything is smothering him and it feels like his fight or flight has kicked in, starting him on level 100 on the defence scale.

To her credit, Clarke regains her composure and remains calm.

‘I wish I could take them back' she says simply. 'I do. But in terms of you waiting for me to tell you that I'm a completely different person now, you're going to be disappointed. I’m still the same. I'm still scared - and a 'guarantee' doesn't fix that.’

Bellamy frowns, wondering where she’s going with this.

‘I’m still terrified to be in this situation again. We’re destined to fall in love, yes - but we’re not destined to actually stay together. The one thing we still have is a choice. You can choose to leave me, choose to cheat, choose to hurt me.’

Bellamy clenches his teeth, willing himself to keep control of his emotions. They are bursting to get out and are threatening to spill over, tears already stinging his eyes. It proves to him that his anger was never really real, just a pathetic front for his own feelings. When it comes down to it, he understands Clarke's situation to the very end - even if it doesn't serve him. He hates that she’s hardwired to expect that from relationships, hates that she’s been damaged that much.

‘I’ll probably always be afraid of those things’ she shrugs, accepting her own personal fate. ‘More than that, I’m afraid I won’t ever stop loving you - no matter what happens.’

Bellamy has to swallow, eyes set firmly on the girl in front of him. God, if she only knew. He would rather die than hurt her and he could never fall out of love with her either. Even if their relationship turned out to be hard, a struggle or just pure hell, Bellamy wouldn’t mind burning in it.

‘I’m scared as hell to want you. But here I am, wanting you anyway' she holds out her arms as if displaying that fact, like it's written all over her. Bellamy can't even breathe. This conversation dropped him right into the deep end, like everything with Clarke Griffin.

'I’m here, standing in front of you and asking for another chance. You’re a risk, Bellamy, but I’ve never been more certain of anything in my entire life' she bites her bottom lip as she takes a breath. 'Regardless of fate or destiny or soulmates, I choose you.’

Clarke is crying now, tears streaming steadily down her cheeks and Bellamy can only watch, a lump the size of a golf ball in his throat. He hasn’t spoken in what feels like a decade, mute as he listens to her pour her heart out.

‘The question is, do you choose me? Over the mistakes I’ve made? As I am, standing here right now? Fears and insecurities along with me?’

His eyes are glistening now, breathing deep. _Fuck._

‘Take some time to decide. I’m back at my apartment, you can find me there if you can forgive me' she wipes her tears with the back of her hand and Bellamy's heart aches to hold her, to tell her that he does choose her - but for some reason, he can't. He can't bring himself to say it or move or even think straight. 'If not, I guess I’ll see you in the next life.’

With that, she leaves Bellamy rooted to his apartment floor.

The click of the door closing behind her signals him to start breathing again, the shudder of his exhale coming out as broken as he feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Bellarke Fanwork Awards are still ongoing as far as I’m aware and to my knowledge, _‘Waste It on Me’_ has made it to the finals in the following categories:  
>  _\- Best angst WIP  
>  \- Best fluff WIP  
> \- Best smut WIP  
> \- Best coworkers AU  
> \- Best bed sharing AU_  
> I’m incredibly grateful that this fic has made it to the finals of so many amazing categories. It is all thanks to you readers and you make me feel so inspired. I love you all forever.  
> I have also made it to the finals of the _'Best up & coming author’ _category.  
>  My fic 'Hung up on You’ has made it to the finals of the _'Best friend’s brother’_ category and another fic of mine 'You Should Still Take Me Home’ has made it to the finals of the _'Best modern under 8000 words’_ category.  
>  **Thank you all so so so so much.**__
> 
> __As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic ontumblr if you want to share it and that would just make my day 💛_ _
> 
> __Waste It On Me from TeamHodgins on Vimeo._ _


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